When It All Falls Down
by NL March
Summary: While searching for Sophia, a badly injured and disoriented Daryl is found by other survivors. Not sure where he came from and losing faith that anyone is looking for him, he finds a place within their group. When a chain of events brings him back to the farm, it's not the happy homecoming Rick and the others were hoping for.
1. Easier Said Than Done

Daryl Dixon had never been one to look at the big picture in regards to anything. Most people, he figured, made plans, thought about the future, maybe even wondered about their place in the grand scheme of things. Not him. Not once did he ever think about the next day until it reared its ugly head. He'd greet it the same way he always did, cursing and fumbling to turn off an alarm that always managed to come too soon.

That was until the moment when everything changed. The moment when he woke and didn't hear an alarm clock. The moment when nothing registered in his mind but pain.

It wasn't like pain was anything new to him. God knows he'd spent more than his fair share of time in it. Hell, the marks all over his body could attest to that. Still this...this was different. He could almost feel the life seeping out of him. His head pounded, his muscles ached and every time he moved or even breathed another wave of fire tore through his ribs.

Christ, what had he done to himself? How had he…? He tried to remember or even think, but it was like his brain was shutting down as static and fog began to build inside his mind. Jesus…maybe he was dying. The thought weighed heavy and for the first time he considered the possibility that he might not see another day. He'd never done it before. Maybe because he'd lived through enough shit to think it couldn't happen or maybe he never cared enough to worry about it in the first place. To think, after all was said and done, he'd wind...up…like...

He began to drift off, holding onto consciousness by the skin of his teeth. Sleep would have been a relief, but he fought it, afraid that if he didn't, he might not wake up again. He dug his fingers into the palms of his hands, forcing himself to concentrate.

It only took a moment for his body to tense, suddenly aware that something was moving near him.

_Shit...walkers?_

Whatever it was, was heading right towards him. His adrenaline began to pump as he tried in vain to figure out how to defend himself from whatever was out there. It was an exercise in frustration. He could barely feel his arms much less raise them.

A groan died in the back of his throat, his body stilling at the sound of a voice...or was it voices? The throbbing inside his head was making it hard to tell. He tried to focus, listening as the voices came closer. He was sure of it now. There were at least two of them.

A dark shadow hung over him and he knew that they were close. He could feel them circling him, talking in hushed tones that gradually tapered off to silence. The quiet stretched for a moment and he forced his eyes to open, seeing for the first time the woods around him and the woman leaning over him.

Her eyes stared directly into his, her voice reassuring him, urging him not to move. He stayed still as someone grabbed hold of him, pulling his back up off the ground. The sudden movement made his head spin and he could feel a wave of nausea roll through his stomach. The woman held his face, slowing the dizzying blur around him. "Can you tell me your name?" she asked softly.

"Daryl." All he could manage was 'Daryl'.

The next thing he knew he was hovering over his feet, his arms draped over two sets of shoulders. He could hear his handlers panting and grunting as they struggled to carry him. His body ached with each jarring movement, his teeth gnashing together with every step. He tried to find his footing to take some of the load off, but he couldn't seem to control his legs. He figured he was doing more harm than good when a male voice uttered, "It's alright. We got you."

He stopped fighting after that, letting them drag him the rest of the way. He heard what sounded like a car door slam and figured he must have blacked out; because when he opened his eyes he could tell that he was out of the woods. His vision began tunneling and during one brief moment of clarity, he saw that he was on his side, his legs folded behind him, laid out across the back seat of a truck. He would have questioned the truss like positioning until he noticed the reason for it. There was a bolt sticking out of him.

_What the fuck?_

His mind churned, trying to determine when and how it'd happened. He felt his stomach lurch, suddenly aware that he didn't even know why he was in the woods in the first place. He closed his eyes hoping it would reset his mind, but it wasn't any use. He couldn't remember a single thing and the thought scared the shit out of him. He must have hit his head. That had to be it. Before he could begin to make sense of any of it, darkness slowly overtook him.

* * *

The next time he opened his eyes it was dark. He hoped that it was night because anything else was too disturbing to consider. He noticed that the hard feel of a truck seat was replaced by something much softer against his skin.

_The hell?_

His clothes were missing, everything save for a pair of boxers he wasn't even sure was his. A shot of white hot rage ran through him. Who the hell had undressed him and why? He figured he was in a bed, but who's?

His eyes darted around him, searching for anything but darkness. One sliver, that's all he saw, one tiny, uneven crack of light that cut across the blank space beside him. It was something—a window maybe?

He swung his legs to the floor, groaning as his hand went instinctively to where the bolt had pierced his side. When he found what felt like a bandage, his apparently unwarranted rage began to subside.

Getting to his feet, he reached out his hand, fumbling to make contact with something—anything. It became evident he'd made a mistake in moving when he smashed his shin into something on the floor. "Son of a bitch!" flew out of his mouth before he had a chance to contain it. It must have been louder than he thought, because less than thirty seconds later the door to the room tore open, practically knocking him over. "What the—?" he croaked, staggering to stay on his feet.

He looked up to see the light of a lantern, illuminating the form of a woman. "Are you okay?" she whispered.

Apparently it was a rhetorical question because she didn't wait for him to answer. She set the lantern down on some piece of furniture he hadn't yet smashed a body part into. "You shouldn't be up," she gently scolded, ushering him towards the bed.

"Wait just a goddamn minute!" he barked. "Who the hell are you?"

She took her hands off of him, taking a step backwards. "Sorry," she murmured. "I didn't want you to rip your stitches."

He took a deep breath, running his eyes down the length of her—dark hair, a bit younger than him, not really tiny but slight. It didn't look like it would take a whole lot of effort to snap her in two. "I didn't mean to yell," he grumbled, suddenly feeling the need to take the edge off his tone. "I just want to know what the hell's going on."

"It's Daryl, right?" she asked.

He nodded reluctantly, confused as to how she knew his name. Shit, how hard had he hit his head anyway? He noticed her gaze traipsing over him, reminding him that he was standing in his underwear. He cut his eyes at her and dropped down on the bed, quickly throwing the sheet over him.

"I'm Sarah by the way."

Her name was a useless piece of information. What he really wanted to know is who she was to him and why he was lying half naked in some strange bed. He determined that she was a mind reader, because the next thing out of her mouth was, "You're probably wondering what you're doing here."

"Yeah, you could say that," he snorted.

"Daniel and I found you on the side of a ravine. It looked like you had a pretty nasty accident from the looks of that arrow that was sticking out of you."

For some reason the revelation that she was the one who found him knocked him off kilter. Lord knows he didn't like the idea of anyone seeing him in that condition, especially a woman. He decided to deflect the comment. "It was a bolt," he said brusquely.

"A bolt?"

"That thing that was sticking outta me is called a bolt. It's for a crossbow. Regular bows use arrows." God, now he sounded like a dick.

She nodded, biting down on the side of her lip. "Were you hunting?"

He didn't know how to answer the question. He had no idea if he was hunting or not. He decided to go with yes.

She nodded again. "Daniel found your crossbow in case you were wondering."

"I was," he said honestly, rubbing his hands down the sides of his face. "I guess I should thank you for looking after me. Hate to think what woulda happened if you hadn't." He glanced down at his bandage. "For this too."

"You can thank Daniel for that. He's the one who stitched you up."

He nodded, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. "How long have I been here?"

"Two days."

"Jesus Christ!" he snapped, causing her to flinch. She lowered her hands as if to tell him to keep his voice down. "I've been sleeping for two damn days?" he said a little more quietly this time.

"You were barely conscious when we found you. By the time we got you back here you'd passed out. It was probably a good thing in the long run. At least Daniel was able to take care of your wound for you."

"Guess so," he mumbled, more to himself than anyone else.

"I'm assuming you'll want to leave in the morning and get back to where you came from. We can take you there if you want."

Yeah, he wanted it. That's all he wanted. Now if somebody could just tell him where the hell he'd come from he'd be all set. He looked up at her, knowing he had to tell her something. Yes. No. Screw you. I want you to but I don't remember a damn thing…Son of a bitch.

He nodded his head again, not quite ready to delve into the fucked up nature of his situation. Besides, things might be different in the morning. Maybe he just needed a few more hours of sleep to straighten his head out…Right, as if forty-eight hours hadn't quite been enough for him. Christ, now he was deluding himself.

She picked up the lantern and turned towards the door. "Okay. I'll see you in the morning then."

She gave him a weak smile. He figured it was more out of pity than anything else. She'd gotten a good look at his scars and whatever she was thinking probably wasn't far off. He raised his mouth at the corners, straightening out the less than hospitable frown on his face. He didn't think he could manage a smile even if he wanted to.

"Try to get some rest," she said.

He laid his head back down on the pillow and pulled the covers over him. Easier said than done.

* * *

_**A/N:** My intentions with this story are for it to be a re-imagined season two in which Daryl does not come back from his trip in the Chupacabra episode. Obviously, some things will have changed with the group on the farm, but I'm going to try and tie together what I think still would have occurred. I hope you enjoyed it._


	2. Designated Baby Sitter

_**A/N: **__Thank you to everyone that faved and followed this story. An extra special thank you to all you wonderful people that took the time to review. I really appreciate the feedback_.

* * *

Rest didn't come easy that night—just like he knew that it wouldn't. The pain alone had rendered it a damn near impossible feat. But it wasn't the burning in his side or the aching in his bones that was making him restless, it was the thoughts racing through his mind, refusing him a moment's peace.

Daryl stared up at the ceiling, watching the scene play out again. So many times now, he'd swear he could smell the exhaust fumes, feel Merle's hand gripping his shoulder. It was the last thing he could remember—the last thing that made any sense.

_He was sitting in his truck on interstate 20, heading into Atlanta. Traffic had come to a standstill, barely having moved a car length in the last half hour or so. It was getting on into mid afternoon and the heat was stifling—about ten degrees hotter than normal and bouncing up in waves off the blacktop beside him. He glanced up at his rear view mirror, watching as Merle maneuvered his bike under the shade of an overpass. Daryl wiped at the sweat on his forehead, cursing the lack of a breeze and cursing Merle for his shitty decision to come that way in the first place. _

_Daryl had wanted to take route 278, arguing that most people would get on 20, thinking it would be the fastest way into the city. Everything he said fell on deaf ears though. Merle had already made up his mind and nothing was going to change it. '"Out in the open baby brother, that's where we need to be. Taking those two bit back roads is only gonna bring the dead down on us. You can trust me on that."_

_All that trusting had gotten him nowhere but stuck behind a couple of SUV driving assholes. He gritted his teeth and inhaled another stomach churning mouthful of exhaust. "Fucking Merle," he muttered as he laid his head down on the steering wheel, trying to ignore the headache that was starting to form. _

_The sound of a low flying helicopter wasn't helping him any. He looked out of the windshield, watching as it hung there for a few moments before heading into the city. Something about it didn't sit right with him._

_Merle must have thought the same thing, because he'd left his spot in the shade and had walked up to the side of the truck. He leaned against the door, taking Daryl by the shoulder. "That ain't channel seven up there. Military—that's what that is. All that bullshit talk about a safe zone was just that—nothing but talk. Ain't no place safe—not anymore." Merle spat at the ground, pointing to the cars around them. "We gotta get off of this highway before the rest of these dumb fucks figure that out. The shit's about to go down and I don't want to be here to see it." __Daryl nodded as Merle slammed his hand down on the roof of the truck. _"_We gotta hunker down somewhere and I know just the place."_

No matter how many times Daryl re-played the scene that night, Merle never finished the thought.

* * *

Daryl realized he must have finally fallen asleep, because he woke to the sound of tapping. Rolling onto his back, he opened his eyes, momentarily confused by the pink walls that surrounded him. He hadn't been able to tell in the dark, but he was lying in a girl's room.

His eyes fell to the floor, finding the small wooden trunk he'd smashed his shin into the night before. He cursed under his breath, already aware of the throbbing knot the thing had left without even looking at it. It figured, as if he didn't have enough problems. The main ones being he still didn't know where he was and he still didn't know where he came from.

He propped himself up by his elbows, watching as the door creaked open.

_Sarah._

"Good morning," she said, carrying in a small wicker tray with what he assumed was breakfast. "I hope I didn't wake you. I just thought you might want to eat this while it was still warm."

"You didn't," he lied, taking the opportunity to get a good look at her in daylight.

She was wearing jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt, not quite the sack of a nightgown she'd had on the night before. Her hair was lighter than he'd thought, more brown than black and as she got closer, he could tell her eyes had a little green in them. She kind of looked like somebody.

He leaned back against the headboard, letting her set the tray in his lap. "I brought you some aspirin. I know that's the equivalent of putting a band-aid over a bullet wound but I guess it's better than nothing." She smiled as she tucked her hair behind her ear. "You can just leave the tray on the nightstand when you're finished. I'll come back for it later."

"Thanks," he practically grunted as he examined the plate in front of him.

Sarah headed towards the door, suddenly stopping as if she had forgotten something. She turned and made a face. "About your clothes…I washed them and they're still wet. I kind of thought you'd be here a little longer. Sorry about—"

"It's alright. Nothing's written in stone that says I gotta leave today." Internally, he shrugged. Who was he fooling? He didn't have any place to go anyway.

Her eyes widened. "Okay then. I'll let everyone know we can add one more for dinner."

"Wait. What?" stumbled out of his mouth.

He could tell he'd confused her. "I'm sorry?"

"You said everyone. I thought it was only you and that other guy."

She shook her head. "No, there's….thirty-four of us here."

"Thirty-four?" Hell, now he was the one confused. "Where is everybody then?" he almost shouted. "Where are we exactly?"

Sarah looked at him as if surprised by his reaction. He couldn't really blame her. He wasn't sure why he was making such a big deal out of it. Maybe it was because it was one more thing he was in the dark about. "We're staying in an apartment building. We aren't far from where we found you."

He narrowed his eyes. "Who are these people you're with?"

"I don't know them very well. Daniel and I just joined up with them. We figured there was safety in numbers. I can introduce you to Dave later if you want. He's kind of the leader of the group."

Daryl agreed, curious to see who was running this show. He had to admit they had a decent setup. One couldn't find fault with a comfortable bed and a hot meal at any point in time, during a shit storm of epic proportions it was practically heaven on earth.

* * *

After Sarah had left, Daryl practically wolfed down his food, not realizing how hungry he was until she'd placed it in front of him. It wasn't anything to write home about, just some canned stuff, but better than nothing. He finished his meal off with a couple of aspirin then laid back down. Alone in the silence of the room, he began to think back to the highway again.

Where was Merle and how'd he manage to wind up in the woods alone?

He rolled onto his side, staring at the tray sitting beside him, wondering when Sarah was going to come back for it. He was quickly becoming impatient and fidgety. Tired of lying in bed. Tired of looking at that god awful pink color on the walls. Just when he thought he'd finally lose his shit, he heard a rap at the door.

Sarah stuck her head in. "I'm assuming you're finished."

He gave her an overly enthusiastic nod as she stepped inside. _Way to go dumb ass. You probably look like a god damn bobble head._

She gazed down at him as she picked up the tray. "Can I get you a book, a magazine or something? I know you have to be bored."

He was becoming more and more concerned that she really could read his mind. He gave her a long, hard look. "Actually, I got something I need to talk to you about."

She put the tray back on the nightstand. "Okay," she said hesitantly, sitting down on the bed beside him. "What is it?"

"I wasn't exactly honest with you yesterday," he started. She leaned slightly away from him. He imagined if she had a gun she would have gone for it. He raised his hand. "It ain't nothing bad," he said quickly. He waited until her shoulders began to relax and then continued. "Truth is I don't know why I was in the woods the other day. I don't even know where I came from. I'm thinking I must have hit my head or something."

"That's awful," she said, her forehead wrinkling in concern. "What are you going to do?"

"I have a brother, Merle. I need to find him. I was hoping you'd take me back to where you found me."

"When were you thinking about going?"

"As soon as we can. I figure the longer I wait the less likely it is that anybody will be out looking for me."

She raised her brow. "Are you sure you should be doing that now? I mean you took a blow to the head and were stabbed by an arrow." She paused. "I mean a bolt," she said, correcting herself.

He kept his expression neutral as she threw his smart ass comment back at him. "All I know is if I don't get outta this bed I'm gonna fucking lose it."

She cringed at him. Probably more from his coarse use of the English language than the actual content. He made a mental note to try and tone it down.

"We can't go today. Daniel has already gone and won't be back until later."

_What damn difference does that make?—_was what he thought. "Can't you take me?"—was what came out.

Her chest rose in a sigh. "Well," she breathed. "I could, but I don't know how happy Daniel'd be with me just leaving like that."

He resorted to giving her the best pathetic look he could muster. "This is important."

She watched him for a moment as if debating the merits of his statement. "Okay," she said almost reluctantly as she rose from the bed. "Far be it for me to get in the way of you finding your brother." She ran her eyes over him. "You and Daniel are pretty close in size. I'll see if I can find something for you to wear." She picked up the tray and headed through the door. "I'll be back in a little bit."

Alone again, he laid back on the pillow, his eyes focusing intently on the ceiling above him. Over the next twenty minutes he'd studied every crack and every crevice. He was just starting in on the walls when Sarah returned. She handed him a pair of work pants and a button-up shirt. "I hope these will fit."

He sat up and looked them over. "Should," he replied as he tossed the sheet off of him.

Sarah quickly turned away when he started to climb out of the bed. He thought it was kind of pointless considering she'd seen it all already. Well…not all of it. He looked down at his boxers, confirming that they were his. He shrugged. After the eye-balling she'd given him the night before, she needn't have bothered. They were well past the point of modesty now.

He started to get dressed, noticing that all the tender spots he'd felt were varying shades of blue and black. Almost every square inch of him had some sort of a bruise, cut or abrasion. God, he looked like hell even for him. He sat back down on the bed and pulled on his boots, clearing his throat when he was finished.

Sarah turned back towards him. "Ready?"

He nodded as he got to his feet. "Yeah, let's head out."

He followed her out of the bedroom, getting his first chance to see the place he'd been staying. It was small, the kitchen, dining room and living room all sharing the same space. Judging by the avocado green appliances and the shag carpet, saying it was in need of an update would have been an understatement. He glanced down the hall and saw a couple more doors. Probably an extra bedroom and bath he imagined. "So where'd this Daniel guy go anyways?" he asked.

"He went out with a group to find supplies."

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as she walked into the kitchen. "So what you're like my designated baby sitter or something?"

"You could say that. I know it might be hard for you to believe but the men in this group aren't all that interested in care giving. Actually, I believe what Tony said when we brought you back was, 'What the hell'd you do that for?'"

He shot her a look. "This Tony guy sounds like kind of an asshole."

She grinned slightly, pretty much confirming the asshole assessment as far as he was concerned. "Let me leave Daniel a note and then we can go."

"Yeah, sure," he said as his eyes searched the apartment. "Is my crossbow around here somewhere?"

Sarah looked up from the counter and pointed to a corner of the living room. "It's right over there."

Daryl walked around the side of a couch, retrieving the weapon and his hunting knife from the floor. He carefully examined them both—a little dirty, but other than that everything seemed to be in order. He glanced over at her. "Do you have anything?"

"You mean like a weapon?"

"Yeah, a gun or something."

She shook her head. "No, I just stay close to people who do."

He raised an eyebrow. How she'd managed to stay alive with that game plan was beyond him. Damn foolish really…No, foolish might have been too kind. It was beyond foolish…more like down right stupid. "You know you shouldn't go anywhere without being able to protect yourself," he said firmly. "It's just not smart considering the way things are now."

"You don't have to tell me that. Believe me I know. The problem is I don't own a gun and nobody around here seems to think I need one."

He was beginning to wonder about these people she was with. Without even thinking, he handed her his knife. "At least hold on to this for the time being."

She slipped the blade from its sheath and studied it for a moment. "Thanks," she said, giving him an appreciative smile.

"Don't mention it." He shouldered his crossbow and headed towards the door. "Come on let's get going. Daylight's wasting."


	3. The Safest Place in the Woods

Daryl stepped out of the apartment and into a dimly lit hallway. A small window was towards the back, allowing just enough light that he could make out five doors. One of them was open and he could hear muffled voices coming from inside, all of them male. Sarah was in front of him, heading for the narrow set of stairs that separated the building's third floor from the entrance below. He followed her, casting cautious glances at the doorways as they passed.

Just like the apartment, the rest of the building had an old, run down feel. The walls were light in color and marked with scuffs, the floor covered in a thin layer of worn out carpet. He rested his hand on the railing as they made their way down the stairwell, carefully checking the landing before entering the lobby below.

As they approached the building's entrance, Daryl took Sarah by the arm and directed her behind him. "Stay close," he whispered as he slipped his crossbow off his shoulder. Getting a nod, he slowly opened the door, almost recoiling as the sun bore down on him. He squinted his eyes against the onslaught, grimacing slightly when a sharp pain shot through his temples. _Damn, so much for the aspirin. _

Sarah tapped him on his shoulder and silently pointed towards the left. They were on the edge of town. The apartment building nestled snug in between a row of houses. A couple of small stores stood across the street, a two pump gas station on the corner. The area was dead, the only sound a wind chime clinking softly from somewhere off in the distance. He gave her a nod, following as she led him through the iron fence that surrounded the building and into a small parking lot. He kept his head on a swivel, having learned the hard way that walkers could come from anywhere and he wasn't going to be lulled into a false sense of security just because the place was quiet.

Sarah stopped when they reached a late model pickup truck. "Care to drive?" she asked.

Before he could respond she hopped into the passenger's seat, leaving him no option but to climb behind the wheel. He rolled his eyes, starting to see a pattern here. "Why do you even bother asking questions if you don't really want an answer?"

She scrunched up her nose. "Did you not want to drive?"

Whether or not he wanted to drive was not the point. It was the principle of it. "No, I wanna drive, but—"

"Good," she said, not giving him the chance to finish his thought. "I figured as much." She handed him the keys. "You can drive a stick, right?"

He gave her a dirty look. "'Course I can drive a stick."

"I had to ask," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "You'd be surprised how many guys can't."

He set his crossbow into the back seat and began chewing thoughtfully on the side of his lip. "You might wanna rethink the kinda guys you're hanging out with then. Any man worth his salt can drive a stick."

She laughed lightly as she pulled on her seat belt. "Maybe I should."

He shook his head, deciding that he liked the sound of her laugh. God knows he didn't hear enough of that sort of thing these days. He stuck the keys into the ignition. "Where we heading?"

"Follow the road until the end," she said, gesturing to her right. "Then make a left. It's the first right after that."

Daryl cranked up the pickup and carefully put it into gear. After all the talking he'd done the last thing he wanted to do was stall the thing.

He pulled the truck out into the street and made the right, taking them in a direction away from town. Small houses passed on either side of them, the distance between them stretching farther and farther apart. Eventually there were none left, only large expanses of woods and untended fields.

He glanced over at Sarah, noticing her staring quietly out of the side window. "Whatcha thinking so hard about?"

She turned towards him and began tapping her fingers on the arm rest. "You really want to know or are you just making conversation?"

He looked at her suspiciously. "Wouldn't have asked if I didn't," he said bluntly.

"Alright then…since you asked. I was thinking that it was strange that I'm riding in this truck with you. I would have never done something like this before. I mean I barely even know you and I'm heading off into the woods alone with you. You could be some kind of psychopath for all I know."

He drew up his brow, wondering what the hell she was getting at. Christ, if that wasn't going to set him on edge nothing else would. "You worried I'm gonna jump you or something?"

"No, I mean you seem like a nice enough guy. It's just an observation."

_Nice enough. Not exactly a ringing endorsement_. "You might want to keep those kinds of observations to yourself then."

She grinned as she tucked her hands between her knees. "Hey, I asked if you really wanted to know."

He snorted under his breath. "Serves me right for making conversation."

The ride didn't take long and before Daryl knew it, Sarah was directing him to pull the truck to the side of the road. He sat there for a moment, looking around, hoping for the trigger that would kick start his memory. There was nothing like that, nothing about the place seemed familiar. It was just another stretch of woods like any other.

Drawing an exasperated breath, he reached across the seat and grabbed his crossbow out of the back. "Wait here and I'll come around to get you," he told Sarah.

He stepped out of the pickup, kicking absently at one of the truck's tires as he made his way around to the other side. He opened the door, helping Sarah across the steep ditch that ran along the edge of the road. "Get Daniel to put some air in these tires. Not good to be riding around on them when they get that low."

"Okay, I'll mention it to him."

She looked at him kind of oddly and he found himself feeling the need to explain. "Don't forget because when they get that low you can lose some of your ability to steer."

"I won't," she assured him.

He nodded and tipped his heads towards the woods. "Your show."

Sarah headed out in front of him, carefully stepping around a patch of blackberry bushes as she passed between two large oak trees. She traveled straight for a good stretch, before suddenly stopping to re-orient herself. She'd start up again and continue the same pattern, delving deeper and deeper into the heart of the woods.

The path she was on wasn't obvious to him and the farther they went the more concerned he became. Maybe she was lost. "Psst," he hissed.

Sarah stopped and turned her head back over her shoulder. "Is something wrong?" she asked anxiously, her eyes darting around him.

"I don't know," he whispered. "Are we lost?"

"No, why?"

He rested his hands on his knees. "'Cause we've been doing an awful lot of walking."

"Well, you were a ways out there." She said it like it was obvious and he found himself slightly irritated by the implication.

"You mean to tell me you dragged my ass all this way?"

"It wasn't like I did it all by myself," she pointed out.

He ran his eyes over her again, trying to figure out how that was even possible. Her arms were the size of a roll of quarters. Adrenaline maybe? "Alright then, keep moving."

They trekked for another couple hundred yards before Sarah finally stopped. She'd brought him to an area that butted up against the side of a ravine. There was a waterfall adjacent to it that emptied into a large pool. The murmuring sound was familiar to him. "This is where we found you," she said, pointing towards the ground. "You were laid out with your legs facing the creek bed."

Daryl walked over and examined the spot she had directed him to. The impression his body had made in the dirt was still there and there were footprints both coming and going. He figured the drag marks were from him. There was no question in his mind that this was the spot.

He took a moment to look around, trying to figure out how he'd gotten the bolt in his side. It was definitely his and there was no way he'd shot himself. Hell, it wasn't even physically possible. Somehow or another he must have fallen on it. He glanced up at the tall wall of rock beside him. Maybe he'd fallen from there.

"What are you thinking?" asked Sarah.

Daryl pointed towards the edge of the ridge. "I'm thinking I must have taken a nose dive from up there. Probably landed on my bolt when I hit the ground." He tried to determine if there was any way to get to the top of it other than climbing straight up. From what he could tell there wasn't.

"So what should we do?"

He turned back towards her. "_We_ aren't doing anything. _I'm _gonna climb up there and take a look around. _You're_ gonna stay put until I get back."

She drew a breath and exhaled loudly. "No way," she argued. "You're not climbing up there. You probably have a concussion. You could get dizzy, maybe even black out. You'd fall and kill yourself and even if you lived I couldn't drag you out of here by myself. Then what?"

"The only thing I got wrong with me is a headache. I'm—"

"Wait. What about the memory loss? Or have you already _forgotten _about that?" She began tapping her foot for emphasis.

Now she was just being a smart ass. "Alright, you've made your point, but now I'm making mine. The longer I wait the less likely it is that I'll have a trail to follow and if I don't have a trail I got nothing to go on. Besides, I give you my permission to leave my ass here if I take another header. All I ask is that you make sure my crossbow is beside me on the off chance that I might wake up and need it."

She bit her lip. "Okay, fine. Do what you want then, but I'm going with you."

"Nope," he said, shaking his head. "You're staying right here. No need in both of us going up there."

She put her hands on her hips and began tapping her foot again. Hell, maybe she never stopped the first time. "What am I supposed to do?" she asked warily. "You're just going to leave me here and hope one of those…those undead…."

"Walkers," he threw out.

"What?"

"Those undead things. I call them walkers."

She looked at him curiously. "Why do you call them that?"

"Because that's what they do. They walk around looking for shit to eat."

She didn't look convinced. "Okay, walkers then…So you're just going to leave me here and hope that one of those _walkers_ doesn't find me?"

He eyed her for a moment and then took her by the hands, backing her further into the woods. She was just starting to protest when he pressed her back up against a tree. "No, you're gonna climb up there and wait for me."

"You expect me to sit in a tree?"

He nodded. "It's the safest place in the woods. The only thing you'll have to worry about is squirrels."

"But—"

He raised his hand. "No buts. Just do as I ask. Believe me it's for your own good. I'll come back and get you when I'm done."

She gave him a hard look but didn't push the point. He wasn't sure if she had come around to his way of thinking or was just tired of arguing about it. He figured it was the latter. "Fine," she sighed, "boost me up."

* * *

_**A/N:** Thank you again for your reviews. They are greatly appreciated!_


	4. Enough for One Day

Daryl helped Sarah into the tree, but not without taking a foot to the groin first. She quickly apologized, claiming it was an accident, but considering the look she gave him, he was beginning to question her sincerity. "Don't do anything stupid like climb down out of this thing without waiting for me to help you," he warned, unable to hide the grimace on his face. Fuck, he felt like he was gonna throw up. "I might be a while so don't and I mean _don't_ get all bent out of shape if it takes me longer than you think it should." He made sure to stress the last part since she looked like the type to do just that.

She stuck out her hand. "Give me the keys to the truck."

"What? Why do you need those?" he asked, more than curious, seeing as how he just told her in no uncertain terms not to move.

"Because if something happens to you and you don't come back I'll be stuck out here with no way to get help."

Jesus Christ, how many times did he have to explain that he was fine? "I told you—"

"Don't start with me," she said sternly. "I think this whole thing is a bad idea but I'm going along with it. I'm not even going to complain about it. All I ask in return is that you give me the keys."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Fine, I don't need them anyway." _Let her have the stupid keys if it makes her feel better._ He tossed them up to her, watching as she situated herself on the limb. "Are you good now?"

She nodded.

"Alright, I'll see you later then."

Daryl turned and walked back to the side of the ravine, grabbing a thick branch to use for leverage. Considering the steepness of the incline that stood between him and the top, he figured he needed all the help he could get. He glanced back over his shoulder and noticed Sarah's legs hanging down. He couldn't see her face, but he knew that she was watching. Probably scrutinizing his every move, waiting to see if he had any kind of a mishap.

Bracing himself with the branch, he took his first step, carefully testing his footing. It was stable enough—in fact it was better than he thought it'd be. He pulled the branch back out, driving it into the ground again, repeating the pattern as he began to climb. He was doing just fine. No reason for Sarah to get all worked up over this. All he had to do was take it slow.

He got about a quarter of the way up when his foot slipped for the first time, sending a small avalanche of rocks below. He looked back, wondering if Sarah had noticed. He couldn't see any part of her now. Maybe she couldn't see him either.

He continued on, finding it was getting harder and harder to pull himself up. Either the incline was getting steeper or his weakened state was starting to catch up to him. He stopped for a moment to rest, deciding that the branch he was using for leverage was becoming too awkward to handle. He tossed it aside, watching as it slid straight down crashing into the ground below. Son of a bitch, it was gonna hurt if he fell. Hell, hurt _more_ was more like it. He was already hurting. He guessed he'd under estimated how hard this little endeavor was going to be. Not that it mattered. There was no way in hell he was going to give Sarah the satisfaction of being right—of seeing him fail.

That was all the motivation he needed. He reached for a tree root above him and hoisted himself up, noticing that the ground beside him was broken and loose. It looked like someone had been there before and maybe lost their footing. All of a sudden, he got to thinking that maybe he didn't fall from the top—maybe he fell trying to get there. That would have meant he could have come from anywhere.

He began cursing to himself, frustrated that his search area had just significantly increased. This wasn't going to be a damn cake walk and he'd been foolish to think otherwise. He gritted his teeth as he reached for his next hand hold. His foot slipped out from under him again, sending him sliding a good six feet. His knuckles scrapped hard against the rock as he reached out to catch himself. "Fuck," he groaned as the weight of his body painfully stretched out his already aching side. He glanced down at the ground, his cursing ratcheting up another notch when he realized how close he'd come to ending up like that branch.

He slowed down even more after that, and after what seemed like an eternity, he finally dragged himself over the top of the ridge. He looked back one last time at the distance he'd covered. Somehow it seemed like more. He rested there for a moment, taking in the dense expanse of woods that stretched out in front of him. There were no houses in the distance, no campground, no nothing. He might as well have been in the middle of nowhere.

What had he been doing out here? Why this god forsaken place? The questions ate at him and he found himself cycling through the images on the highway again. Did Merle bring him here? Was this the place he was talking about? The place to hunker down?

With nothing else to go on, he began to walk, staying close to the edge of the ravine at first and then gradually working his way outwards. He wasn't even sure what he was looking for. If he'd been hunting, which now seemed more than likely, he never would have left a trail. He'd spent his whole life learning how not to—learning how to make himself invisible in the woods. The only thing he could hope for was that maybe somebody looking for him hadn't been quite as careful. Merle, for one, was not much of a hunter, never having taken to it the way he had. That fact alone was the only thing playing in his favor.

* * *

Daryl wasn't sure how long he'd been out there—a couple hours, maybe more—long enough to know that what he was doing was getting him nowhere. He'd come up empty—no footprints, no broken limbs, nothing that would suggest anyone had come through there. Maybe nobody had.

Tired, sore and frustrated, he decided he'd had enough. He figured Sarah probably had enough too. Her ass had to be sore by now and he could picture her sitting there, getting more and more pissed off by the minute. He might have felt a little more guilty about it if she hadn't of taken that shot to his crotch. Sorry my ass, he thought. She didn't look particularly sorry.

He drew a long breath and headed back to the edge of the ridge, searching the ground until he'd located the spot he'd come up from. He'd take the same path as before. No reason to blaze a new trail if he didn't have to. He adjusted his crossbow into a comfortable position, before lowering himself into the ravine. He moved slowly, having learned his lesson the first time. Physically it was easier than coming up, but he had to spend more time feeling around, searching for places to set his feet. His trial and error method had succeeded in sending dirt and rocks flowing beneath him in streams. He imagined Sarah was probably getting worked up by the sight of it.

As he made his way down, he could hear a low murmuring sound in the distance. He figured it was the waterfall, but as he moved closer he realized it wasn't murmuring but moaning. He quickly looked over his shoulder and saw them out of the corner of his eye. A group of walkers were milling around a tree…the tree Sarah was in. His eyes shot up to the limb that he'd left her on. She wasn't there. He almost didn't believe it at first, taking a second look to convince himself that he was mistaken. He was right the first time. Why the hell wasn't she there? "Shit," he cursed, keenly aware that he still had a good thirty yards left between him and the ground.

Thirty yards seemed like a mile at the pace he'd been going and with his adrenaline pumping he found it harder and harder to find his footing. The hell with it. He released his hands and slid as much as climbed the rest of the way down.

Lying halfway on his back, he grabbed his crossbow off his shoulder and quickly loaded it. He steadied himself and fired at one of the walkers, dropping it where it stood. Two other shots followed before his supply of bolts ran out, leaving two of the undead left to contend with.

_Now what?_

He looked around and grabbed his discarded branch to use as a weapon. Crouching down, he began to move in on them. The snarling bastards seemed distracted and confused, alternating from staring up at the tree to back down at the ground.

_Where the hell was Sarah? _

He drew back the branch and bashed the larger walker in the back the skull. A thick black liquid flew out of its head as it fell in a heap in front of him.

_One down. One to go_.

Either the ruckus was enough of a distraction or the remaining walker had finally gotten a whiff of him, because it turned in his direction. Its long dark hair clung in thick clumps against its face, its yellow dress hanging off a pair of emaciated shoulders. It had been a woman once.

The thing didn't waste any time sizing him up. It lunged at him with a speed that he wasn't prepared for. She was small and fast—faster than he was used to. Probably hadn't been a walker for long.

He stumbled backwards as he struggled to stay on his feet. It lunged at him again and before he could catch himself, he tripped over a root sticking out of the ground, falling flat on his back. He didn't have a chance to get back up before the walker moved in on him. Its cloudy eyes stared straight through him as its mouth fell open, blood coloring its mangled teeth. He drew back the branch and was just about to swing, when the walker suddenly dropped to the ground like a rag doll in front of him. "The hell?"

He looked up to see Sarah standing over the barely moving corpse. Without a word she dropped to her knees and drove a knife—his knife—into the walker's skull.

The woods were eerily quiet again and he watched as Sarah got back to her feet. She didn't say anything, only stared at the dirty weapon in her hand like she wasn't sure what to do with it.

He picked himself up and took the knife from her, wiping it across the leg of his pants. He handed it back to her, noticing for the first time the bloody spot on the back of her shirt. "They didn't get at you did they?" he blurted out, alarmed by the sight of it.

She shook her head. "No, the tall one scared me though. It got close."

Daryl repeated her words inside his head. What if it hadn't just been close? What if they had gotten a hold of her? He released the breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Where'd the blood come from then?' he asked, pointing to the spot on her back.

Sarah carefully lifted the hem of her shirt. There was a good sized gash above her waist that was just starting to clot. "I guess I cut it on a limb when I was trying to get away from them," she said quietly. "I'm not really sure. It all happened so fast." She looked up at him with a blank expression on her face. "I thought it was you at first."

Hell, he didn't think he could have felt more guilty. He took her by the arm, guiding her away from the death that surrounded them. "C'mon. Let's get you back. I think we've both had enough for one day."

* * *

_**A/N: **Thank you again for your reviews. They are greatly appreciated!_


	5. Band-Aids and Clean Clothes

They made the trip out of the woods in silence. Normally Daryl would have appreciated the quiet, but at that moment all he wanted was for Sarah to say something, even if it was just to yell at him. She was rattled. He could tell by the way she moved—the tension in her body obvious. It was his fault—he knew it—she knew it. He should have been smarter. He never should have left her alone like that.

He followed her as they approached the truck, noticing that she didn't bother to wait for him to help her across the ditch this time. She probably had enough of his help.

_Shit. _

He walked around to the driver's side kicking one of the tires hard with the toe of his boot. "Fuck, all of these damn things need air," he barked. His observation was met with silence as Sarah climbed inside the cab, closing the door behind her.

Daryl took his crossbow off his shoulder, wondering if the ride back would be as quiet. It didn't have to be, he guessed. Nothing was keeping him from talking. All he had to do was open his mouth. Maybe he'd be smart enough not to stick his foot in it. He climbed inside the truck, glancing at Sarah as he placed his crossbow into the back seat. She pulled the keys out of her pocket and reached out to hand them to him. He didn't think she looked mad—more like numb. "We alright here?" he finally asked.

She looked down at the keys that they were both now holding. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you and me. We alright?"

"Why wouldn't we be?"

She seemed confused by the question and he started to wish he hadn't asked it. "You ain't said two words since we left. I figured you were pissed at me."

"Why would you think that?"

Jesus, she couldn't be serious. "'Cause of what happened back there." He needlessly pointed to the woods as if she didn't know where _there_ was.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know why you'd think that. If anything I'm grateful."

Not only wasn't she mad, she was grateful. _Huh?_ "Why the hell would you be grateful?"

"You saved me from those walkers," she said matter-of-factly.

"Saved you? All I did was get you out of the mess I put you in."

"No, you put me some place safe. Because of that I'm sitting her right now."

Daryl shoved the keys into the ignition. "I don't know how you can say that, seeing as how one of those sons of bitches almost gotta hold of you. If the tables were turned I'd be pissed."

A hint of a smile crept across Sarah's face. "Are we really gonna argue about this? Because if we are, I'd rather just pretend to be pissed and drop this topic all together."

Daryl rubbed tiredly at his eyes. "You know I don't understand you. You should be chewing my ass out right now. If I had listened to you and let you come with me, none of this shit woulda happened in the first place."

"What really happened? I mean other than me getting a bit of a scare. We're both fine. Besides, who knows something worse might have happened if I went with you."

Not likely, but he wasn't going to argue about it. He wasn't even sure why he was arguing in the first place. "Just out of curiosity, where the hell were you when I came back?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I was in the tree just like you wanted."

"I didn't see you and l looked...hard."

"I climbed up on a higher limb and waited for you to come back. I only got down when it looked like you needed help."

_Here we go._ He was wondering when she was going to bring that up. "Just so you know, I didn't need any help. I had that walker right where I wanted it. If you had just waited a second I'd have taken it down myself."

She pressed her lips together. "Maybe that was the case but I didn't want to wait around and find out otherwise."

"Not maybe. It was."

She rolled her eyes as she reached to put on her seat belt, apparently unconcerned that he could see her doing it.

_Way to go jackass. How's that foot taste? _God, he just couldn't help himself. Now she actually looked kind of pissed. "I meant to tell you, I thought you did good with the knife."

She looked at him skeptically. "You think so?"

"Yeah, I might have given it a bit more of a turn inside the skull, but overall you did good." Her eyes lit up a little and he figured he'd redeemed himself.

"Thanks. It's a good knife."

Daryl nodded as he cranked up the engine. "It is a good knife."

Sarah settled back against the seat as he pulled the truck onto the road. "You know you never did say if you found what you were looking for out there."

He shook his head. "Nah, nothing but dead ends. More questions than answers."

"We'll just have to keep looking then. I have a feeling it's all going to work out in the end."

He wished he could believe that, having no idea how much time Merle would waste looking for him. Waste, that's what his brother would think it was. Nothing but a waste of time. Hell, maybe Merle never bothered at all. It wasn't like it would have been the first time nobody came looking for him. Maybe he was the one wasting his time, looking for somebody that was long gone by now.

The realization hit him hard and he didn't feel much like talking after that. He sat there quietly and the two of them rode back without another word between them. This time the silence seemed more natural though, and he was content to just focus on the road in front of him.

When they reached the apartment, Daryl handed Sarah the keys and stood outside the door. She waved her hand at him. "You can go on in," she said. "You don't have to wait on me."

She probably thought he was being polite. In truth, he was stupidly waiting for her to unlock the door, forgetting that the jam had already been busted. Like she would have had a set of keys to begin with.

Sarah stepped by him and went inside, disappearing into the second bedroom. He took off his crossbow and sat down on the couch, figuring if she wanted him to follow she would have said something. She returned a moment later with a first-aid kit and sat down at the coffee table in front of him. After fishing around in the plastic box, she pulled out some antiseptic wipes and a box of bandages. "Give me your hand," she said, motioning towards him.

"What?"

"Your hand. I need it so I can bandage your knuckles."

He looked down at his scrapes and then back at her. "Why do you need to do that? They're fine."

"They're not fine. They're all torn open."

"You're the one that needs a bandage. Hell, look at your shirt."

"I'll take care of that too. Come on now. Stop being so hard headed. Do you really want them to get infected?" She held up the box of band-aids. "Look these are even the flexible ones so they'll be comfortable."

He rolled his eyes at her. "That's your selling point, the fact that they're flexible."

"They're bandages not cars. It's not like there's a ton of options. I can look around and see if I can find some with cartoon characters on them if you'd like that better." She gave him a smile that was more vinegar than sugar.

"Funny," he grumbled, begrudgingly sticking out his hand. "Do what you need to but none of that cute bullshit."

Sarah opened her mouth like she was going to say something, but quickly closed it, apparently having decided the better of it.

Probably for the best, Daryl thought as he settled himself on the couch. He watched as she went to work, wondering why she felt the need to bother. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd worn a band-aid, even when he was a kid and probably could have used stitches. War wounds, that's what Merle would call them. A nice way to describe the split lips, bruised ribs and general ugliness their old man would hand out. No one was ever there to bandage him up. No one ever cared in the first place.

"All done," he heard Sarah say, snapping him out of his thoughts. She got to her feet, gathering up the used wipes and the backing from the bandages, then tossed them into the trash. She looked at him for a moment and he knew exactly what she was thinking. "You're kind of a mess," she said. "Let me check your clothes. They're probably dry by now."

"No, that can wait. You need to get yourself fixed up first."

"I just thought—"

"I know what you thought, but you need to stop fussing over me," he said harshly. "A little dirt never hurt anybody."

She frowned at him. "Why do you have such a problem with me helping you?"

"I don't when it's needed. None of this is needed. I can live without band-aids and clean clothes."

She grabbed one of the antiseptic wipes from the first aid kit and tore it open. "Just because you can doesn't mean you have to." He watched as she reached awkwardly around her waist, dabbing at the gash on her back. "You can't tell me your knuckles don't feel better and you can't tell me you wouldn't rather be in clean clothes."

"You're missing most of it."

She stopped what she was doing and looked up at him. "What?"

He pointed to her back. "You're missing most of it. You gotta go more to the left." She dabbed at the wound again, frustrating him with her inaccuracy. "Just give it to me. By the time you finish cleaning it, the skin'll have grown over it."

Her mouth tightened and he could see the unspoken 'screw you' in her eyes. "Fine, here," she huffed, handing him the wipe.

"No need to get all pissy about it. I'm just trying to help." He ignored the glare she gave him as he bent down to get a closer look at the wound. He'd barely laid a hand on her when she started squirming. "Hold still. I ain't gonna be able to do this if you keep moving around."

"I can't help it. You're making it hurt worse. Why are you pressing so hard?"

"I gotta press hard enough to get all the crap out of it. Just bite down on your fist or something." She must have taken his advice because she finally stopped moving long enough for him to get the bandage on. He ran his thumb over the edges of the tape. "There, done."

"Thanks," she said under her breath as she adjusted her shirt. She turned away from him and stepped out onto the living room balcony, returning a moment later with his pants and shirt draped over her arm. "These are dry" she said, avoiding his eyes. "You can wear them or not."

He took the clothes from her. "Thanks for washing 'em. Guess I'll go get changed."

Without another word from her, he walked back into the bedroom, feeling more than a little guilty for the way he'd gotten on her. After all, the only thing she was trying to do was help his ungrateful ass. He dropped down on the bed and pulled off his boots. Damn it, she was right. His knuckles did feel better and he was just as certain he'd feel better in clean clothes.

He started to get undressed, daring to take a look at himself in front of the dresser mirror. The reflection looking back at him confirmed what he already knew—he looked like hell. The bruises under his ribs had started to spread out, yellowing around the edges, giving him an almost sickly look. The abrasions on his shoulder had scabbed over and he could feel the gentle tug against his skin. He brushed his hair aside, taking a close look at the cut on his forehead. It was then that it struck him. His hair was long—longer than he'd remembered—longer than it should have been.

_What the...?_

He quickly threw on his clothes and rushed out of the bedroom. He found Sarah standing in the kitchen. She looked at him, raising an eyebrow as he stood wordlessly in front of her. Before, he could piece a coherent sentence together; he was interrupted by a knock at the door.

* * *

_**A/N:** For the next chapter I'm taking Surplus Imagination's advice and taking a peek at what's going on back at the farm. (SI thanks for the idea.) Thanks everyone for reading and an extra special thank you for those who took the time to review. I love hearing what you're thinking._


	6. Not So Lost Causes

Sarah walked out of the kitchen, tucking her shirt inside her jeans. "You can't see anything can you?"

Daryl shook his head, assuming she was talking about the blood stain.

"Good. People tend to get nervous if you show up with a little blood on you nowadays." She adjusted her shirt one last time before answering the door.

At first Daryl thought the man she welcomed inside was Daniel, but then decided against it, figuring he wouldn't have a reason to knock. Sarah quickly cleared up the confusion. "Daryl, this is Dave," she said as she closed the door behind him.

Daryl gave the man a nod, determining he must have been the group's leader that Sarah had mentioned. At first glance, Daryl wouldn't have pegged him as such. He looked to be in his mid thirties, average height and build—a little on the doughy side from what he could tell. Nothing about the man stood out.

"It's good to see you up and moving around," Dave said casually as he stepped into the living room.

Daryl knew right off he wasn't a native. Yankee, he figured from the sound of his accent. He stared intently at the man, but didn't respond.

"I kinda thought you might be a lost cause considering the shape you were in when Sarah and Daniel brought you back."

Daryl bit the inside of his cheek. Fuck, had the whole damn group seen him laid out on his ass?

"You plan on joining us for dinner?"

Daryl looked over at Sarah not sure what he'd be doing. She shrugged her shoulders as if the decision was his to make. He still wasn't a hundred percent certain she wasn't pissed at him. "Yeah, looks like it."

"Good. Good. We don't really get the chance to meet too many new people these days. You from Atlanta?"

Daryl shook his head. "'Bout thirty miles outside of it."

"Local then," Dave commented as he looked over at Sarah. "Sarah here, Daniel, Nate and Randall are the only ones I know that are from around these parts." He ran his hand through the back of his hair. "They're also the only ones that can tolerate the damn heat."

Sarah smiled. "Speaking of Daniel, do you know if he's back yet? I kinda thought he'd be here by now."

Dave gestured towards the door. "Yeah, he's outside helping get set up for dinner. He asked me to come get you."

"Finally," Sarah sighed. "I was starting to get a little worried." She glanced down at her shirt, giving it a disapproving look. "I should probably get changed first. Can you let him know I'll be down in a little bit?"

"No hurry. Daniel thinks he's a lot more efficient at getting a fire going then he actually is. I've got to give him credit though. He's a persistent son of a bitch." Sarah smiled at him again. "I guess I should be getting back too." He looked over at Daryl. "I'll see you at dinner."

Daryl gave the man a nod and walked over to sit on the couch. All of a sudden, he wasn't feeling too hot. The dull pain that had been lingering behind his eyes had turned into a full blown headache, throbbing like a jack hammer against his temples. He closed his eyes, listening to the sound of the apartment door being shut. Suddenly, everything seemed obnoxiously loud. He swore he could even hear Sarah's footsteps as she walked towards him. "You have a headache?" she asked.

He raised his head and looked up at her. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

She mimicked pinching the bridge of her nose. "That's kind of the international sign for 'I have a headache'. Give me a second and I'll get you something for it." She went back into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a couple of aspirin. "Here take these."

Daryl rubbed weakly at his eyes. "Sorry about earlier," he mumbled as he took the pills from her.

She gave him a strained smile and sat down beside him. "You know you don't look too good."

"No big surprise," he scoffed as he tossed back the aspirin. "I feel like shit."

Sarah pushed his hair aside, resting her hand against his forehead. "You aren't running a fever. Hopefully, it's just a headache." She touched his knee as she rose to her feet. "Why don't you stay here and rest while I help with dinner? I'll come back and get you when it's ready."

Daryl stretched out on the couch not bothering to argue. He'd almost forgotten about his hair until Sarah had brushed her fingers through it. He started to say something about it, but suddenly felt too tired to get into it. It probably would have sounded crazy anyway. Hell, maybe he was crazy.

* * *

Rick Grimes stood in the center of the Greene's living room floor. Dark circles colored his eyes and the soft lines that once crossed his forehead were now etched much deeper than before. Things had changed in the last few days and the emotional roller coaster had started to wear on him. Sophia had been found alive but Daryl was missing. Rick rubbed his hand across the back of his neck as he looked out at the faces staring back at him—his wife and son, his best friend and the group of survivors who looked to him to make the tough decisions. But, this—this was one decision he wouldn't be making on his own.

Daryl had been missing for three days now, never having returned from his hunt for Sophia. It went unnoticed at first, with everyone going in different directions—some searching for the girl—some keeping watch. It wasn't until the group had gathered for dinner that first night that the question had been raised.

_Lori had brought Carol out of the RV and back to the house, insistent that she eat something. Carol's eyes flicked across the dining room as Lori seated her at the table. "Where's Daryl?" was the first and only thing she'd said._

_The two words ignited a fire storm as the room erupted in a myriad of voices all trying to talk over one another. Rick drew away from the table and lowered his hands. "Quiet everyone, please," he shouted. "We need to keep our heads here." The din quickly silenced as the roomful of eyes settled on him. "Now we know Daryl left to look for Sophia. What we don't know is how far he got. Who saw him last?"_

_Heads turned as everyone tried to feel each other out. Dale was the first to answer. "Last time I saw him was when we were figuring out the search grid for Sophia." _

"_That was the last time I saw him too," followed T-Dog._

_Andrea nodded. "Same here." _

"_I just came from the stables and the horse he took wasn't there," Jimmy interjected as he sat down next to Beth._

_Rick wiped his hand down the side of his face as he gathered his thoughts. "Anyone seen him since this morning?" _

_The question was met with silence and head shakes. Carol broke down at the response and Lori reached out to her, taking her by the hand. "Don't worry. I'm sure there's a good reason for him not being here. You know Daryl; he's more than capable of taking care of himself."_

_Glenn glanced at Maggie before asking the obvious question. "What are we gonna do?" _

_Everyone turned back to Rick. Instead of just one missing person, now he had two. He looked over at Carol, his heart sinking as the woman quietly sobbed into her hands. "We'll begin a search first thing in the morning. We know the general area Daryl was headed to. We'll start there."_

_The following morning, the search group had gathered in the center of camp. Rick had the county survey map that Maggie had given him spread out across the hood of the Bronco. "We know Daryl was heading out to the ridge along the east side of the farm. I think that's where we should start. Now that's a pretty big area, so I suggest we break into groups of two. I don't want anyone going out there alone. T-Dog and Andrea, you two take this section here," he said pointing down at the map. "Shane and I will take this middle section. Glenn and Maggie, you can take the last section. It's the farthest out, but I figure you two can go by horse." _

_Maggie nodded as she took Glenn by the arm. "C'mon. Let's get the horses saddled up."_

_Rick raised his hand. "One more thing, before you guys head out. Daryl isn't the only one we're looking for out there. Keep that in mind. Let's all meet back here and I shouldn't have to tell you to be careful."_

The first search day had ended fruitlessly, not only had Daryl and Sophia not been found but there had been no signs of them either. Shane hadn't kept his feelings about the situation to himself, letting Rick know that he thought the search should be called off. Rick disagreed and the next day they met in the center of camp once again. This time the search area was expanded and this time the results were different.

Glenn and Maggie had returned that afternoon with Sophia in tow. Somehow the girl had been resourceful enough to hide out in an abandoned house. She had made her way to the creek to find water. That was where Glenn and Maggie had found her, worse for wear, but otherwise in one piece.

Carol was elated of course, and the reunion gave the rest of the group a shot in the arm that was sorely needed. Still, the fact that Daryl was missing, cast a long shadow on what would have otherwise been a cause for celebration.

And now they were here. Sophia wrapped up in Carol's arms, seated on the small couch inside the living room. Everyone else gathered around them, waiting for Rick to pose the question—the question he really didn't want to ask. He wouldn't have asked it either, if Shane hadn't found his ear again, arguing that this was something that should be decided by the group and not Rick alone.

"I've asked everyone here," Rick began, "because there's a decision that needs to be made that affects all of us. It's been three days now that Daryl has been missing, and we all know that the more time that passes the less likely it is that we'll find him. I also know that continuing to search puts additional lives at risk. Because of that I'd like to hear what you all think on the matter."

Carol stroked Sophia's hair as the girl squeezed tightly against her. "Daryl was out there every day searching for my daughter. He didn't have to, but he did just the same. He put the group before himself and because of that I think we owe him as much."

T-Dog nodded in agreement. "Even after everything that happened with his brother, the man still stuck his neck out for me."

"These two are right," Dale added as he stepped from inside the doorway. "I mean I know Daryl can be hot-headed and more than a little abrasive at times, but he's always been there when we needed him. I think he deserves a little more time."

"It's already been three days," Shane scoffed. "How much more time do we give him? Four days, five, hell how about a whole damn week?"

"Sophia was missing longer than Daryl and we managed to find her," Glenn pointed out.

Shane straightened himself up off the wall he was leaning against. "Now hold on a second," he countered. "Let's stop and think rationally here. This ain't a situation like Sophia. Daryl ain't lost. If he was capable, he would have made his way back here by now. So that tells me he either got himself hurt, killed or he left on his own accord. Even if he was just hurt, he most likely wouldn't have survived this long on his own. We need to be smart here. No use sending people out there chasing ghosts."

Carol shook her head. "Or he could be lying somewhere hurt and did just what Sophia did—got himself some place safe and is waiting for us to find him."

The room got quiet again as Rick looked from Carol back towards the rest of the group. "Alright, if anybody else has anything to add now's the time." He waited a moment, but no one moved to speak. "Okay, let's put this to a vote then. Everyone in favor of calling off the search raise their hand."

Shane threw up the lone hand, shaking his head in disapproval.

* * *

_**A/N:** Okay, I know technically Sophia was in the barn before Daryl ever went looking for her, so it wasn't possible for anyone to find her after he went missing…but I hated that she died on the show, so I'm taking a little creative license to keep her alive. I hope you'll bear with me. Thank you again for reading and for the wonderful reviews. You guys are great!_


	7. Maybe They'd Grow on Him

It seemed like only a minute later that Sarah's hand was touching his shoulder, gently shaking him awake. Daryl wiped at his eyes, noticing that the room around him was considerably darker than before. "How long have I been sleeping for?"

"A couple of hours. I came by earlier but you were so out of it I decided to let you rest. Everybody's finishing up with dinner if you want to come eat."

Daryl nodded as he gingerly swung his legs around to the edge of the couch. His head still hurt a bit, but nowhere near as bad as before. He got to his feet, staggering slightly as Sarah guided him through the living room. "Where we going?"

"Out back with the rest of the group. I've got a plate saved for you."

Daryl stopped to retrieve his crossbow, drawing a questioning look from Sarah. "I don't go nowhere without it," he said bluntly, as he slid the weapon over his shoulder.

Sarah didn't comment only nodded as she opened the door. He followed her as she stepped out of the apartment and headed towards the stairs.

It was dark now and the hallway and stairwell had been lit by a couple of lanterns. Shadows flickered across the walls beside him and Daryl found himself becoming uneasy by all the movement. He might have felt less anxious if he knew for certain the place was safe. But he didn't…and he didn't know the people staying here either. He protectively gripped the strap of his crossbow as Sarah led him through the lobby and out the back of the building.

He took a moment to orient himself. They were standing at the edge of a yard. The same iron fence that circled the front of the building wrapped around the back. There were people gathered under an open-sided shelter, some sitting at wooden picnic tables, some standing at its corners. Daryl glanced to his left. A campfire burned nearby, the low flames lighting up the faces of the men seated around it. There must have been about thirty of them in total, just like Sarah had said. Men mostly, although he saw one circle of women. There might have been kids but he didn't see any.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned in his direction. He stood stiffly as Sarah held up, looking around like she was searching for something. They were all staring now, and he began to feel a little like a zoo animal the longer they stood there. Damn it, couldn't Sarah have started him off in the kiddie pool instead of dropping him smack dab in the middle of the deep end with these people. Fuck if he could have felt more uncomfortable.

The low groan he uttered apparently keyed Sarah in on his dissatisfaction. She took him by the hand, practically dragging him over to the campfire where Dave and four other men were sitting. She whispered into his ear, "Don't mention what happened on our little day trip...In fact just don't mention it at all."

She needn't have worried, he thought. Not exactly something he wanted to go bragging about. Dave nodded at him. "Glad to see you could make it my man. Grab a seat," he said, motioning to the empty chair beside him.

Daryl slid his crossbow off his shoulder and sat down, eyeing the men looking back at him. They were kind of a mixed bag. White, black, older, younger. Definitely not a group that would run around together if circumstances were different.

Dave lit up a cigarette and gestured to the heavy set man on his left. "This is Tony. Met him in a clusterfuck of a traffic jam outside of Philly. First rate prick, but pretty good with a gun."

"Fuck you Dave," Tony bit back.

Dave gave him a wry grin. "Not that desperate just yet, but check back with me later." He pointed at the lanky, long-haired guy sitting across from him. "That's Nate. Not quite the prick Tony is, but not as good with a gun either."

"The only prick here is you," Nate countered with feigned indifference.

Dave smiled. "You guys really need to mind your manners. We got company here." He gestured to the youngest looking member of the group. "The kid there is Randall. He's local. Grew up not far from here and that's Sean beside him," he said, pointing at the only black guy in the group. "Hell, where'd we pick you up? I can't even remember anymore."

Sean shook his head. "D.C."

"That's right. Damn everything's starting to run together these days. Been on the road too damn long." Dave looked over at Daryl. "So what's your story? Sarah mentioned something about you looking for your brother."

Shit. There it was—the million dollar question. The one he still didn't have an answer for. "Yeah, we were out hunting and got separated."

"Damn shame," Dave said shaking his head. "One of the worst things about not having a cell phone. Kinda makes you wonder how people ever got along without them." He pointed over at Tony again. "If anybody could use one, it's that one over there. Always manages to get himself turned around and slower than fuck. I'm surprised we haven't lost him yet ourselves."

"Sit and spin," Tony muttered as he leaned back in his chair.

Dave nodded and took a drag off his cigarette. "Original. I like that one."

Daryl shifted uncomfortably, wondering how Sarah had gotten herself mixed up with this bunch of Mensa candidates. Where the hell was she anyway? Before he had a chance to locate her, he heard someone ask, "What do you hunt?"

Daryl looked up finding the kid—Randall, who'd asked the question. "Deer and rabbits mostly. Squirrels if nothing else is around."

Randall leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "What about geeks?"

"Them too."

"Good weapon for that," Randall commented. "Quiet and you get to reuse your ammo."

Daryl nodded half distracted, his attention drawn to the tall, dark haired man that had just approached.

"I don't know if you had the chance to meet him or not," Dave began, "but Captain America there in the blue and white shirt is Daniel, Sarah's brother."

_Brother? _

Daniel extended his hand and Daryl shook it. "Glad to see you back on your feet. You had me worried there for a while."

"I owe you a thanks," Daryl said, as the man sat down in the chair across from him.

"You don't owe me a thing. Sarah was the one who looked after you. All I did was put a few stitches in." He shook his head. "I've never done anything like that before, so I can't guarantee those scars are gonna look real pretty."

Like a couple more mattered. If the guy didn't seem genuinely concerned, Daryl would have thought the man was screwing with him. "All I care is that the holes are closed."

"I wish I had of known that beforehand," Daniel said with a laugh. "It would have taken some of the pressure off."

Daryl glanced up to see that Sarah had finally found her way back. She handed him his dinner and a bottle of water. "I'm going to get started with the dishes," she said, tilting her head towards the shelter. "Call me if you need anything else."

"Thanks. This is good."

Daryl began to relax a little as the conversation shifted away from him and towards the group's plans for the next day. He began to think about his own. First and foremost he needed to talk to Sarah and try to piece some things together. The whole damn hair thing had thrown another bag of garbage into an already flaming dumpster fire. He was missing time, that much he knew. Now he just needed to figure out how much.

He finished up his dinner and decided to head back to the apartment, having done enough chit-chatting for one day. He grabbed his crossbow and walked over to the shelter to find Sarah. She was standing beside one of the picnic tables, elbow deep in a gray plastic bin. He handed her his plate.

"So how are you making out over there?" she asked.

Daryl shrugged and glanced back over at the campfire. "Can't complain. Nobody's tried to put my ass back out on the street."

"I'd consider that a success then."

He half grinned. "Figured you would."

Sarah rinsed off his plate and set it aside. "Now that you've gotten a chance to meet some of them, what do you think of our group?"

_Not much. _Other than Daniel, the nicest thing he could say about the lot of them was that they breathed with their mouths closed. "Your brother seems like a good guy. The rest of them I ain't so sure about."

"Give them some time. They'll grow on you. Well…everyone except Tony. He still hasn't exactly grown on me yet."

Maybe, but he doubted it. She seemed a lot better equipped to tolerate a certain level of bullshit than he did. "How'd you end up with this bunch anyway?"

Sarah sunk her hands back down into the tub of water. "Well, at first it was just Daniel and me. We were trying to get from Marietta to Greenville, South Carolina where we have family. Unfortunately, we managed to get caught up in the mess on interstate 85 and ended up taking a detour. We'd been pretty much living out of Daniel's truck, staying at rest stops or campgrounds, whatever we could find." She looked down at the plate in her hand. "Then one day when we were setting up camp a couple of guys pulled guns on us, took all of our food and supplies, threatened to do some pretty horrible things to me if Daniel even thought about doing anything about it. He decided after that it was too dangerous to be alone." She looked back up at Daryl. "Then we met Dave's group and when they offered to let us join them it seemed like the only thing to do."

Daryl nodded. "Seems like times like these bring—" He stopped mid sentence when a shrill scream rang out. His eyes darted to the far end of the shelter. There was a woman there, standing stick straight, staring out towards the fence. He couldn't see anything that would warrant the reaction, but the terror in her voice alone caused him to react. He ran towards her, half expecting to see a black snake or something else that might have crawled out of the nearby woods. But when his eyes adjusted to the darkness, it was there in the shadows that he saw the walker pushing through the gate that lead into the parking lot. He slipped his crossbow off his shoulder and quickly loaded it. "Move," he shouted at the woman.

But she didn't move, just stood there as the walker moved in on her.

"Run, damn it!" he spat.

Still…nothing, like she'd never heard a thing he'd said.

Daryl didn't waste another second trying to cajole or coax her. He fired his crossbow, the bolt whizzing by her head as it ripped through the walker's skull.

The immediate relief he felt when the walker dropped was soon forgotten when he saw that it wasn't alone. More of them were pushing past the gate. How many exactly he couldn't tell, the night cloaking them in darkness. He ran and grabbed the woman around the waist tossing her over his shoulder. She wasn't heavy by any stretch, but he could feel every pound of her as her body pressed painfully against his bandaged side.

He tried his best to ignore it, focusing instead on the groups of people that were scattered around him. Sarah wasn't moving. No one was moving. "God damn it, Sarah!" he barked, passing the woman off to her. "Get your ass inside!"

_What the hell was she thinking? What the hell were any of them thinking?_

He didn't have time to figure it out, just turned back to meet the herd of walkers that was making its way into the center of the yard. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Daniel run up beside him, raising the axe that was in his hand.

Daryl looked back over his shoulder at the bottleneck forming at the building's door. "Too many to take out," he shouted at Daniel. "We just gotta hold them off a little longer."

Daryl could hear the screams of the women now, the sounds fueling his adrenaline as he grabbed one of his bolts, impaling it straight into the eye of an approaching walker. He cast the thing aside, dispatching the two that staggered out after it the same way.

He glanced back at the door, spotting for the first time the walkers coming up from behind. How had they gotten past them? Had they gotten past them? He slammed his bolt in and out of the nasal cavity of one of them, only to feel a second one grab him by the shoulder. He shrugged it off of him then quickly turned, jamming his weapon up and under its chin.

He couldn't hear the screams anymore, the sound drowned out by the pulse of blood inside his head. He was operating on instinct now, driving his bolt into rotting flesh and decaying brain matter. Any fear had turned to anger, any uncertainty no longer existed.

He was in control now…He was in control now.

* * *

**_A/N:_**_ Thanks everyone for reading! And to Kim the anonymous reviewer, since I couldn't respond to you personally through a PM, I wanted to say thank you for your review. I'm so happy that you think I'm doing well with Daryl's character._


	8. Cold-Blooded

The sound of gunfire pealed through the air, snapping Daryl out of the rage induced haze he'd managed to lose himself in. He wasn't sure who was shooting or even where it was coming from. All he knew for certain was that someone had grabbed him by the arm and was pulling him towards the apartment building. It must have been enough. They must have all made it back inside.

He glanced down at the bodies littering the ground around him, trying to discern if there were any visible flesh tones among the sea of gray. He didn't see any, and at that, he finally allowed himself a second to breathe. It wasn't until Daniel had released his arm to jam the axe through the handle of the building's rear door that Daryl realized he was the one who'd ushered him inside.

Somehow in all of the chaos and confusion he'd lost track of him…lost track of everyone.

He quickly scanned the cramped space they were all now gathered in, searching the shadowy faces that filled the back hallway. He found Sarah standing in the corner across from him; comforting the woman he'd grabbed hold of in the yard. She looked up at him and gave him that same strained smile he'd seen once too many times now.

_She was fine. _

That fact alone should have been enough to set him at ease, but it didn't. Part of him wanted to go over there and yell at her for the way she reacted out there. She should have known better—been prepared to move at a moment's notice, especially after what happened in the woods.

He'd actually considered it—letting her know exactly what he was thinking, how she needed to be smarter about things or she was going to get herself killed…but he didn't. Instead he just stood there, holding her gaze, hoping she could read it all from the look on his face.

He stayed fixed like that until Daniel shouted out, drawing his attention away. "What about the front door?" he'd asked. "Anybody secure it?"

Daryl's eyes cut over to Dave as the man stepped away from his spot along the wall and towards the center of the floor. "We got it," he said calmly, looking over at Daniel and then back out towards the group circled around him. "We should all get upstairs though. We don't know if or how long those doors are gonna hold up."

It was the truth and Daryl hated the fact. Hated knowing that they were trapped there, dependent on a couple of inches of metal to keep them from what was waiting outside. The door frame was already rattling and it wasn't a stretch to think that it might not withstand the pressure.

_Christ, this day just keeps getting better and better._

He hung back as the group began to disperse, noticing that Daniel hadn't moved from his post by the door. The man looked a little worse for wear as he wiped the blood splatters from his face with the back of his hand. Daryl exchanged a nod with him. "Just want to see for myself that everything is secured like it should be."

"I was thinking the same thing."

Daryl began to walk towards the lobby with Daniel falling in step beside him. It was quiet there, devoid of any banging sounds or moaning. The walkers obviously hadn't made it around to the front of the building. Maybe they'd catch a break and they wouldn't. The last thing they needed was to try and fight them off from two sides instead of just one. He went over to check the door, finding that someone had broken off a chair leg to secure it. He glanced back at Daniel. "Seems alright to me."

"I guess we're good at least for now anyway. We should get back. Sarah's probably starting to wonder what happened to us."

Daryl gave the door a final look before following Daniel up the stairs. He could feel his aching limbs with each and every step, the days events finally catching up to him. But his day was still far from over and the sound of one lone gunshot only served to confirm it. He stopped in his tracks, trying to place where it had come from.

Daniel turned back over his shoulder, giving him a confused look. "What the hell?"

The screams that followed keyed Daryl in on the location. He loaded his crossbow and took off for the third floor, Daniel right on his heels. Raising his weapon, he slowly turned the corner and stepped out into the hallway. He found Dave there, his back towards him, partially blocking his view. Daryl cautiously moved around him.

There were people standing in the doorways, some whispering, some…crying? Why the hell were they crying? His heart began to pound as he looked down at the end of the hall. Tony was standing there, a gun in his hand, a man Daryl didn't recognize crumpled on the floor at his feet. "Jesus Christ, what the hell happened?"

Tony lowered his weapon to his side. "He got bit," he said with a shrug. "Dumb bastard thought he could hide it too."

There wasn't an ounce of emotion in his voice or on his face. Cold-blooded, that was the only way to describe it. Like the man had just put down a rabid dog instead of a human being. Daryl held his crossbow trained on him. "Drop the gun."

Tony looked down at the weapon in his hand and than back up at Daryl. A dark smile crossed his face. "Fuck you. I ain't dropping anything."

Daryl gritted his teeth, having had all he could take for one day. He was already tired and patience never had been his strong suit. "You either drop the gun or get a bolt through that thick skull of yours. Believe me I ain't in the mood to be fucked with."

Tony laughed as if amused by the demand. He looked over at Dave. "You gonna let this son of a bitch dictate what goes on here? Who the hell is he anyway?"

Dave sighed as he tipped his head in Daryl's direction. "Just do what the man says. He's got every right to be concerned. If Matt is bit just like you said, you've got nothing to worry about."

"Worry?" Tony snorted. "I think I got something to worry about." He jerked his thumb at Daryl. "What makes you so damn sure that Jethro over there ain't gonna pull the trigger on me once I put my gun down?"

Dave shook his head, his frustration clearly evident. "In case you've already forgotten, _Jethro _over there was the first one fighting off those lame brains. Might have even saved your ass…By the way at what point did you actually step in to help?"

Tony glared darts at him, ignoring the question. "Is that the way it is now? Some nobody can just walk in off the street and start making demands. Worse yet you're going along with them."

"Don't even start that shit with me," Dave snapped. "I'm doing what's best for everybody. And what's best for everybody is for you to put the gun down."

"This is bullshit," Tony muttered. "All of this is bullshit." He shot Daryl a hard look before finally dropping the weapon to the floor.

Daryl glanced to his left as Daniel moved in beside him. "Kick it to me."

"You want it?" Tony asked, folding his arms across his chest. "Get it your damn self."

Daryl could feel his blood begin to boil. He took a few steps closer, resting his finger on the trigger of his crossbow. "I ain't asking again."

Tony sneered as he kicked the gun in Daryl's direction. "Happy now you fucking prick?"

Daryl almost smiled. "Yeah, shit for brains, I am. Thanks for asking."

Daniel picked up the gun and slid it into the waist of his pants. He motioned to Tony to step aside then walked over to check on the man lying on the floor.

"You see a bite?" Daryl asked, not taking his eyes off of Tony.

"I don't know yet. Let me get him turned over."

Tony leaned back against the wall and pointed down at the body. "Check his arm," he instructed, as Daniel rolled the dead man onto his stomach. "I saw him unrolling his shirt sleeve, trying to cover it up."

Daniel raised the blood soaked sleeve, exposing the deep gash that extended from the man's elbow halfway down to his wrist. "Looks like a bite. One of them must have gotten a hold of him from behind." He shook his head. "Damn shame. Matt was one of the good ones."

Tony glared over at Daryl with an indignant look on his face. "See I told you asshole."

"Look dick breath," Daryl growled. "I don't know you from Adam and I sure as hell ain't gonna take your word as the gospel."

Daryl felt Dave's hand on his chest as the man stepped between him and Tony. "Alright, enough you two. We've already had enough shit go down for one day. No need to add to it."

Daryl returned the filthy look Tony gave him before heading over to the beckoning Daniel. "You think you could help me move the body downstairs?" Daniel asked. "I wouldn't feel right just leaving it here."

"Sure man."

Daryl bent over to grab the man's legs while Daniel lifted his arms. The body was warm in his hands and Daryl didn't know what bothered him more, the fact that someone had just died or the fact that it hardly even fazed him anymore.

People began to clear the hallway as they passed through. Daniel stopped when he saw Sarah standing in the door of the apartment. She was visibly upset and the sight of the two of them moving the body didn't seem to be helping the situation. "You should get inside," Daniel told her, "at least until we figure out exactly what's going on."

Sarah glanced over at Daryl as if looking for confirmation. "You should listen to your brother," Daryl added. "He knows what's best." As soon as he said the words he wondered if they were true. Wondered why Daniel didn't think she needed a gun like he did. Maybe Daniel foolishly thought he'd always be there to protect her. But Daryl knew better. He knew brothers went missing. Maybe he was the one who knew what was best for her too.

Sarah searched his face and the look she gave him made him question again if she could read his thoughts. She didn't say anything, just stepped back into the apartment.

Daniel only shook his head as she closed the door. He gestured at Daryl and they began to move again, slowly making their way down the stairs. Daniel had to stop for a second and reposition his hands as they made the awkward turn at the landing. The corpse's mouth fell open as its head lolled onto its shoulder. The light of the lantern gave it an almost ghoulish appearance and Daryl tried his best not to look at the dead man's face. Walkers were one thing. They were easy enough to dismiss as something different. But those who never got the chance to turn were something else. It was too easy to think it could have been any one of them.

He was almost relieved when they finally got the body moved into one of the vacant apartments. They set it down on the couch and Daniel pulled the small throw off the back and did his best to cover the man. He sighed. "Helluva day this turned out to be."

_You don't know the half of it. _

Daryl almost voiced the words without thinking. Considering his current company, mentioning the little run in he and Sarah had out in the woods probably wasn't the best idea. "Yeah and we still haven't addressed what's going on outside."

"I've been thinking about that," Daniel said, as they exited the apartment. "We can't really take them out since the gunfire might draw more. Maybe we could take up post on one of the balconies and keep watch. There's always the chance they may just give up and leave. If they don't and it looks like there's a chance they might break through, then we start firing on them."

"Makes sense to me," Daryl agreed as they began to head back upstairs.

They found Dave and Tony toe-to-toe in the middle of the now deserted hallway. Neither bothered to acknowledge that Daryl or Daniel were standing there, apparently unconcerned or unaware that they had company. "What the hell were you thinking?" Dave asked. "We resorting to just shooting people in the back of the head now?"

Tony ran his hand down the back of his hair, clearly unhappy with the line of questioning. "What did you want me to do? Just let him turn while we're all trapped in this building? Get a few more people killed?"

"There are other ways."

"Like what?"

"We could have locked him up some place. Let him have a chance to at least make his peace."

"You really want to set a precedent like that?"

"Who's—"

Daniel cleared his throat, obviously just as tired as Daryl of listening to the two of them debate Tony's piss poor decision making process. "I think we got bigger concerns than this right now."

* * *

_**A/N: **A very big thank you to everyone that reviewed the last chapter. Each and every one means so much! And to the guest reviewer: Thanks, I'm so glad you liked it :)_


	9. After the Storm

Daryl shifted on the cold concrete floor of the apartment balcony, his eyes fixed on the building's rear door and the walkers that surrounded it. He'd volunteered to take the first night's watch, brushing off any arguments from Daniel to the contrary. He'd gotten at least a couple hours of sleep before dinner, which was more than he could say for the rest of them. It wouldn't have mattered anyway. Truth was, he wouldn't have been able to sleep until he knew for himself the place was safe.

He wasn't alone though. Nate was posted on the balcony across from him and Dave and Sean had taken positions out front. He held onto the pistol Daniel had given him, keeping the gun's extra clip on the floor beside him. Three hours in, he'd been lucky enough that he hadn't had to use them.

The walkers had given up trying to get inside some time before. They had done some damage though and at one point he thought the sons of bitches might actually do it. The center of the door had begun to cave from the pressure, the sound of bodies banging against metal and the rattling of hinges growing louder and more persistent. He'd held his gun trained on the entrance, signaling with a turn of his hand for Nate to do the same. He'd counted the seconds, waiting for the onslaught that never came. The door had held and eventually the frenzy began to quiet.

Now the walkers circled the yard, only approaching the door with mild interest at times. Some of them were smart enough to find their way out of the back gate. He figured it was only a matter of time before they rest of them caught on. For now all he could do—or any of them could do was wait.

He grimaced as he leaned back to stretch his legs, feeling the dull pain in his side begin to sharpen. His entire body ached and sitting in that one spot only served to remind him of the fact. He ran his hand over the bandage beneath his ribs, wondering how he'd managed to end up like that. Wounded, missing his brother, and out in the middle of nowhere keeping a herd of walkers at bay. He looked down at the sea of rotting faces that ambled in the moonlight beneath him. "Guess it could be worse."

The squeak of the sliding glass doors drew his attention away from the yard and towards the living room. Sarah stepped outside wearing the same nightgown he'd seen her in the night before. She had a blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders and a worn look on her face. "Do you mind if I join you?" she asked. It was the first thing she'd said to him since dinner.

She had been curled up on the couch when he and Daniel had finally made it back to the apartment. Even in the dimly lit room it was obvious that she'd been crying. He stepped inside the kitchen to get out of the way, feeling like he was intruding on something. Daniel sat down beside her, reminding her that everything happened for a reason.

Daryl had silently questioned the logic behind Daniel's statement. No one could've convinced him that all the shit going on around him was for a reason. Maybe shit just happened sometimes. Maybe all of this was for nothing. Sarah had only nodded at the comment and then without a word had gone to bed at Daniel's urging.

Daryl looked up at her and shook his head. She seemed more at peace now. "Can't sleep?" he asked, as she sat down beside him.

"No," she said quietly. "Too many thoughts running through my mind. I was hoping a little air might clear my head." She reached inside one of her pockets and handed him a bottle. It was aspirin and he couldn't have been any more grateful to see it. "I thought you could probably use some. It's been a few hours since you last took any."

"Thanks. I could." He tossed back a couple of the pills, glad to see that she hadn't bothered to listen to his short sighted protests about not fussing over him.

Sarah pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. "How's it going out here?"

"Pretty quiet. They're finally starting to break up a bit. Hopefully, they'll all be gone by morning."

She looked out at the yard. "You know I've never seen anything like that before. So many of them at one time."

"I have once," Daryl said without thinking. "On the highway. One minute it was dead quiet. The next it was….." He froze for a moment as the memory came to the forefront of his mind. He could see himself grabbing a corpse out of one of the vehicles left on the road, pulling it on top of his body to shield himself from the herd as it passed by. He shook his head, confused by the image. It seemed real enough, but he had no idea where or when it had happened.

"What were you saying about the highway?" Sarah's voice broke through his thoughts.

"What?" he said absently.

"You were saying something about a highway."

"Oh yeah, it was overrun. Just like what happened here."

She nodded. "I guess that explains why you were so calm out there this evening. I mean it was really something—what you did. Rescuing Rachel like that. Holding off those walkers so everyone could get inside."

He shrugged. "I didn't do anything Daniel didn't."

"Maybe, but you don't even know those people. Daniel does."

He glanced over at her, raising an eyebrow. "I know you."

She smiled and shook her head. "You barely know me."

_I know you took a chance dragging me out of the woods. I know you looked after me. I know you trusted me._ "I know enough."

They sat there in silence for a while, Sarah staring up at the sky and him at the ground below. "You know the worst thing about all of this," she finally said. "It's the fact that we thought we were safe for once. Being on the road so long, never feeling like you could truly rest. Then we find this place with the huge fence and it's quiet. We hardly saw any walkers. I guess we all started to let our guard down…and then this happened…and then Matt."

Daryl watched her out of the corner of his eye, taking in the stoic look on her face. "No place is safe anymore. Just safer."

She rested her head back against the sliding glass doors. "I know that you're right. I just hate that it's true." She turned towards him. "Do you think there's ever going to be an end to all this? I mean where we're not running anymore. Where we eventually have some sort of a normal life again."

"Can't really say. I never thought too much about it." She looked sort of defeated by the response. "I'd like to think so," he added, more for her benefit than his own.

She got quiet again and he could feel her as much as see her watching him—reading him. "What's the one thing you miss most? I mean other than the obvious like air conditioning and hot showers."

He didn't even have to think about it. He already knew. "My dog Murph. Best hunting partner I ever had. Loyal to a fault." He smiled a genuine smile at the thought of him. No matter how shitty things got at times, he'd always had that dog to count on.

"What happened to him?"

"Don't really know. He took off the day Merle and I packed up to leave. I think he must have keyed in on some walkers out in the woods behind the house. I spent a couple of hours trying to find him, would have spent more, but Merle refused to wait any longer. I still like to think he's out there somewhere, probably chasing a coon up a tree as we speak." He looked over at her. "What about you? What do you miss?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know really. I mean I'm sure I'm luckier than most. I've got Daniel with me. I was always a reader in my spare time. I have books so I can still do that. I guess if I had to pick one thing it would be having a purpose every day...a reason to want to get up in the morning." She paused for a moment, twining her fingers in the fringe of the blanket. "I used to teach second grade and I miss the feeling of having people counting on me. You just don't get the same level of satisfaction from washing clothes and doing dishes." She frowned. "I know that must sound pretty cliché, but it's true."

"Explains a lot," he said off-handily. "I mean as far as your level of patience. I know I ain't the easiest person to get along with, but even I can't be as bad as a roomful of screaming kids."

She smiled at him. "You've had your moments, but you're not all that bad."

He grinned as he looked back down at the door, figuring that since they were getting all personal about things, now was as good a time as any to mention what was weighing on his mind. "I've been thinking about some things, about where I came from, how I ended up where I did."

"What about?"

He paused for a moment as he tried to figure out where to start. "Mainly about the fact that I might have forgotten more than just a couple of days."

She sat up straight as if to give him her full attention. "What makes you say that?"

"I know this is gonna sound nuts, but my hair is long." She looked at him curiously. "It's just that it ain't ever been like this before. Hell, my own brother would skin me alive if he knew I was walking around looking like this." He watched her, trying to gauge her reaction. At worst she looked a little confused at best genuinely concerned. "I mean it couldn't have gotten this long in a few days." He glanced back down at the door. "Then there's the weather. It started to get cool tonight and the last thing I remember was being stuck in traffic and it was hot, so hot I was damn near sticking to the seat of my truck."

"When was it that you were on the highway?"

He was certain about the day. He remembered it like the back of his hand. "It was a Sunday. I know because the day before I'd spent the whole morning setting up deer stands. It was my day off and my day off was Saturday."

She shook her head. "Not the day. I mean the date."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever that first Sunday was after the fourth of July." He was certain about that too.

"Daryl," Sarah started, the serious tone of her voice making him suddenly uneasy. "It's September."

He almost didn't believe it when she said it—didn't want to believe it. "That's fucking crazy. It can't be September already."

"It is. I know it for a fact." She got to her feet and walked back into the living room. He turned around, watching as she retrieved something from the drawer of the coffee table. When she returned, she sat down next to him. "I know it's September because of this." She laid a leather bound book in her lap and opened it. "This is my journal. I've been writing in one of these every day since I was thirteen." She flipped to one of the pages in the back. This is the entry for today," she said, running her finger beneath the date written in cursive. "It's September the 22nd."

"Jesus Christ, this is insane," he blurted out. He took the journal from her and began flipping through the pages. They were all there, entries going back to the fourth of July. He could feel a wave of nausea come over him. A few days was one thing. Two and a half months was something else all together.

Anything could have happened in that time...to him...to Merle.

He felt Sarah's hand touch his. She said something, but the words were lost on him. All he could hear was the sound of his heart pounding inside his head.


	10. Help Wanted

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay on this chapter. I got a little off schedule due to the holiday. Thanks to everyone that reviewed the last chapter or PM'd me. I can't tell you how much it means to hear from you all. And to everyone who celebrates it, I hope you had a nice Thanksgiving.

* * *

_Daryl crept through the woods, his crossbow in hand, his body tense with anticipation. He'd spent the better part of the morning tracking a deer and he knew that he was close. _

_A creek lay just over the edge of the ridge, brimming with the rain that had fallen the day before. A fresh set of tracks had led him there. It was the place—and it was only a matter of time now._

_He positioned himself behind a large sycamore tree, watching as the deer came into view. It was the biggest buck he'd seen all year, thick bodied with a full, wide rack of antlers. It dipped its head to take a drink from the water, quiet, serene, oblivious to him and what was about to come. _

_Daryl steadied his breath, resting his finger on the trigger of his crossbow as he centered the deer in his sights. "That's it, just a—"_

_The buck's ears suddenly twitched and before Daryl could take the shot, the deer tore off, running further into the woods. "God damn it," he cursed under his breath. It should have been his. He was so close. _

_Frustrated, he stepped out from behind the tree, catching a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. He wasn't alone. He drew his weapon to his shoulder, waiting anxiously for whoever or whatever was there to come out into the open. _

_The thicket of pine trees beside him slowly parted and a man stalked out, stamping down the surrounding brush and talking to himself. Daryl could only see the man from behind, but it was clear that he was solidly built. His hair was cut to the scalp and he was wearing a worn leather vest and heavy boots. He didn't appear to be armed._

_Daryl trained his crossbow on him and quietly called out, "You there, hold up a minute." The man didn't stop or even look in his direction. Daryl wasn't sure why, but he felt compelled to follow him._

_They walked for a while, sticking to a well worn path that Daryl couldn't remember seeing before. He knew these woods, but all of a sudden nothing seemed familiar. Gradually, the trees began to recede around him, the path beneath him replaced by a wide set of steps. He was standing in front of an old farmhouse now, a large porch wrapped around its sides. His grandma's place? No….that wasn't right. Something was different. _

_He climbed the rickety steps, watching as the man walked to the far end of the porch and rested his arms on the railing. For the first time, Daryl was able to see the man's face. "It's about time you found me baby brother." _

_Daryl froze. "Merle?" he said in disbelief. "Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you." _

_Merle raised up, staring at him coldly. "Where have I been? Where the hell have you been? You knew I was here. I've been here all along."_

"_I didn't, Merle," Daryl argued. "I'm the one that's lost. I'm the one that was left alone." Merle stretched out his handless arm in front of him, causing Daryl to recoil at the sight._

"_You repulsed by me?" Merle asked, his lip turning up at the corner. He raised his bloody stump into the air. "This is what you did. Because of you I wound up like this."_

_Daryl began to back away as Merle moved towards him. "I don't know what you're talking about. I never woulda done nothing like that."_

"_You sold me out—your own flesh and blood." Merle shook his head. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I never could make a man of you." _

_Daryl clenched his fists as anger began to build inside him. "Beating the shit outta me, leaving me alone when you knew what our old man was like, that was your way of making a man of me?" He moved towards him, standing face-to-face with his brother. "I never wanted or needed your kinda fucked up help."_

_Merle laughed and slapped his hand down on his thigh. "Is that right baby brother?" he asked as he looked up at him. "What about now? You need my help right now?"_

_Before Daryl could respond, the porch began to crumble beneath him and he could feel himself falling, slamming hard into the ground below._

He woke with a start, gripping the mattress, his body sweaty and tangled in the sheets of the bed. It was just a dream. Nothing but a damn dream.

He took a deep breath, watching as the sun filtered through the blinds and onto the pink wall beside him. For a moment, he'd forgotten where he was.

He wiped the sleep from his eyes and glanced over at the door, half expecting Sarah to come through it. She didn't and twenty minutes later she still hadn't either. He climbed out of the bed and picked his clothes up out of the pile he'd left on the floor. Maybe she wasn't up yet.

He dressed and went to check the second bedroom, thinking she would be there. She'd sat up with him most of the night, only going to bed when he had, but when he turned the corner he found the door open and the room empty. Everything was quiet.

He walked into the living room and noticed what looked like a couple of protein bars, aspirin, keys, and a note lying on the coffee table. He picked up the piece of paper and read the same cursive writing he'd seen in Sarah's journal.

_Daryl,_

_I didn't want to wake you. Daniel and I are out back helping with the cleanup. I left the truck keys for you. Please be careful out there._

_Sarah_

He set the note back on the table and picked up the keys. He'd talked with Sarah the night before about heading back to the woods. There were still places he needed to search. He'd only covered a portion of the ridge and hadn't even begun to start on the creek. He kind of thought she'd be going with him.

He walked over to the balcony and looked outside. They were all there, clearing the corpses from the yard and stacking them into piles in the parking lot. Smoke was rolling off of some of them. They must have decided to burn them.

The cloud covered sky gave off a gray cast, making the scene below him look even more bleak and fucked up than it already was. He imagined hell wouldn't have looked much different.

He went back into the living room and grabbed his crossbow from the side of the couch were he'd left it. He looked down at the keys in his hand, turning them over a few times—considering them. Things had changed, he reasoned, as he tossed them on the kitchen counter before heading out back.

The building's rear door let out a metallic screech as he forced it open and stepped outside. He found Randall standing there, pressing his boot into the side of a walker. "Some shit ain't it?" Randall asked as Daryl walked up beside him.

Daryl only nodded as he looked out at the yard not all that interested in making conversation. "You seen Sarah around here?"

Randall pointed to the back gate. "Yeah, she's back there."

Daryl looked over in the direction he was indicating and saw Sarah dragging a walker towards the parking lot. The sight bothered him. There were more than enough men around. She didn't need to be doing that. He headed out to meet her, catching her as she walked back inside the fence.

"Hey," she said as she wiped her hair from her eyes. "I thought you'd be gone by now. I left the keys on the coffee table for you."

Daryl shrugged. "I found 'em. I just thought you might need some help out here first."

She looked almost surprised. "That's really nice, but nobody expects you to be here. You've got other concerns. Besides, you've already done enough."

"Your concerns are my concerns," he said as he went over to examine the gate. The latch was broken clean off and the catch was bent. He looked up at Sarah as she leaned over him. "We need to get this thing fixed."

"Dave went to see if he could find something to secure it." She glanced back over his shoulder. "Speak of the devil, there he is now."

Daryl stood to see Dave approaching. "You find anything?" he asked him.

Dave held up a less than substantial piece of rope. "This is the best I could come up with."

"That ain't gonna do much of nothing," Daryl said, pointing out what he thought was obvious. "A few walkers come through here and they'll tear right through it. What we need is a piece of chain."

Dave stuck the rope in his pocket and looked down at the broken latch. "There's a hardware store in town. We could try to find something there."

* * *

"I was handling it Shane…I was handling it."

Rick stood on the front porch of the Greene farmhouse, staring into the face of the man he thought he knew better than anyone. Cold, hard eyes met his and for the first time he saw someone different—someone he didn't know at all.

"Handling it?" Shane questioned, rubbing his hand down the back of his head. "That's what you call what you were doing? You would've had us sleeping next to a barn full of walkers…Lori…Carl," he said, punctuating each name with a finger to Rick's chest. "They deserve better than that….We all deserve better than that."

"So your solution was to hand out guns and just massacre Hershel's family in front of him? That's the way you handle things?"

"They were dead Rick," Shane said evenly, looking him square in the eyes.

"Hershel doesn't believe that. He thinks you murdered his family right in front of him."

Shane jerked his thumb back towards the barn. "I don't care what that son of a bitch believes. He put us all in danger. He's delusional and if you can't see that you're just as bad as he is."

Shane stepped off the porch, shaking his head. "Handling it, huh?" he said as he stormed off.

Rick could feel his blood run cold. Hell had been unleashed and he was helpless to stop it. He looked towards the house, knowing Shane's actions had probably cost them the farm. Desperation began to consume him. He needed this place. Lori and the baby needed this place.

He walked back to the barn, taking in the walkers that lay broken and disjointed on the ground.

"Should we start burying them?" T-Dog asked him.

"Let's dig graves for Annette and Shawn," Lori answered. "Hershel would want that." She pointed over to the stand of trees by the barn. "That would be a good place over there."

"I'll get the truck so when can start moving the bodies," Shane said, striding by Rick without acknowledging him.

"What about the rest of them?" Jimmy asked. "That would be a whole lot of digging."

Andrea looked down at the walkers and then over to Rick. "We're burying the ones we care about. The rest of them we burn."

Rick nodded stiffly as the decisions were made around him. It was done. There was nothing he could do to change it.

Two hours later the bodies had been buried and the remaining walkers moved away from the barn. He stood at the edge of Annette's freshly dug grave, watching quietly as Hershel said his good byes to his wife and son. Tears streamed down the man's face as he fumbled absently with his tie. Rick couldn't help but notice that he'd dressed for the occasion. The pressed suit and starched shirt were a stark contrast to the dirty and sweaty clothes he was wearing himself. He felt a pang of guilt; his only thoughts centered around his family's future not those that had been lost.

When the service was over, Rick walked with T-Dog and Andrea back to the pile of corpses. They needed to be burned and he needed the distraction. Andrea tried to engage him in conversation, but he barely caught half of what she was saying. After a while nobody bothered to talk and it was fine with him. He lost himself in his work, only snapping out of it when he heard Lori's voice call out to him. "We need you back at the house," she said, trying to catch her breath. "Beth's sick and Hershel's missing."


	11. It All Falls Down

Rick searched the boxes laid out across the bed in Hershel's room. "Were these your stepmother's things?" he asked Maggie.

She nodded and leaned back against the dresser that stood across from him. "In Daddy's mind she was just sick. He never believed the stories he saw on the news. He always thought that one day she'd get better and everything would go back to the way it was."

Shane walked over to the armoire along the far wall and picked up the metal flask that was lying on top. He tossed it to Rick. "Looks like he was doing a little more than just taking a walk down memory lane."

"I didn't think Hershel was a drinker," Rick remarked as he examined the flask.

Maggie took it from him, running her thumb across the scroll work etched on its side. "He wasn't. This was my grandfather's. Daddy gave up drinking years ago."

As Rick looked at the mess strewn around the room, he realized that the events at the barn had finally pushed Hershel past his breaking point. Rick could understand. Sometimes he wondered how far from the edge he was himself. "Isn't there a bar in town?"

Maggie nodded. "Yeah, Hatlands. That's where all the locals go. Daddy did too back in his drinking days."

Rick looked over at Shane. "I bet that's where we'll find him then."

"I can take you there," Glenn offered, following Rick as he headed towards the door. "I know the place."

Maggie took Glenn by the arm as he passed by her. "No, I don't want you going out there," she said firmly. "It's too dangerous."

Rick walked back over to her, resting his hand on her shoulder. "Hey Maggie, I promise I'll bring him back safely."

* * *

"I didn't know that dick was going," Tony grumbled as he dropped his gear on the ground beside Daniel's truck. Daryl returned the glare he gave him, deciding that Tony wasn't worth the effort it would take to get worked up over. Fuck him. He had more important things to worry about.

"Jesus Christ," Dave barked. "What are you fucking nine? He rolled his eyes at Tony, tossing one of the bags into the back of the pickup. "You're going with me anyway so what damn difference does it make?"

Tony's mouth tightened as he slid his shotgun off his shoulder and waited by the side of Dave's car. He didn't bother to acknowledge Dave or his question.

Daniel exchanged a look with Daryl as the two of them climbed inside the truck. Randall and Nate were already waiting in the back seat. "You guys got everything?" Daniel asked, glancing up at them in the rear view mirror.

Nate checked his pistol and nodded. "So what are the plans once we get into town?"

Daniel cranked up the truck then turned back over his shoulder to look at Nate. "I figure Daryl and Randall could hit the hardware store and you and I could check out the pharmacy. The first-aid kits are half empty and it wouldn't hurt to stock up on medicine."

"What about them two?" Randall asked, pointing out the window as Dave and Tony got into Dave's car."

Daniel shrugged. "Dave didn't mention any place in particular. I guess they'll figure it out once they get there."

* * *

Rick and Glenn found Hershel right where they expected to, sitting at the bar with a drink in his hand. "Had enough?" Rick asked as he walked up beside him.

Hershel looked down at his glass, swirling the liquid around inside it. "Just getting started," he said tiredly then slowly finished his drink.

Rick leaned over him as he poured himself another round. "How about we finish this up back at the house? Beth needs you right now. She collapsed. I think she's in shock."

"Isn't Maggie with her?"

"Yeah, but you're the one Beth needs."

Hershel shook his head. "What she needed was to mourn her mother….weeks ago…but I took that away from her." He took a sip from his glass. "I was a fool Rick. I just couldn't see it at the time."

Glenn walked over to the bar and Rick glanced up at him, reading the uncertainty on the younger man's face. "You thought you were doing what was best," Rick assured Hershel. "That's what we've all been doing. We've all made mistakes, but all we can do is learn from them and try to move on." He laid his hand on Hershel's shoulder. "Come on now. We should get back."

The sound of the front door opening drew Rick's attention. He turned as two men stepped inside, the stunned look on their faces mirroring his own. "Son of a bitch," one of them uttered in a distinct northern accent. "We're not alone."

Hershel shifted on his barstool, the creaking of the wood suddenly noticeable as the room fell silent. "You two looking for something?" Rick asked, carefully studying the men standing in front of him. Both of them looked to be about his age, one heavy set with a shotgun slung over his back, the other of average build didn't appear to be armed.

"Just a drink," the thinner man replied, hooking his thumbs in his pockets as he glanced over at his companion. The two exchanged weak shrugs and then walked over to the bar. "I'm Dave and this is Tony," he continued, gesturing to the man trailing behind him. He pulled out a chair and sat down at the table closest to Rick, the heavier of the two taking a seat next to Hershel.

Glenn waved from behind the counter. "I'm Glenn. It's nice to meet you."

"Rick Grimes," Rick said by way of introduction. He set a couple of glasses down in front of the men, filling them both with bourbon. "So where you fellas from? It doesn't sound like from around here."

Dave leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hand down the side of his face. "I take it you picked up on the accent," he said with a good natured smile. Rick returned it with one of his own. "Philadelphia born and raised." He tipped his head in Tony's direction. "Tony over there is from right outside of it."

Rick took a seat at the bar and poured himself a drink. "You two are a long way from home. What brought you this far south?"

"We were headed to D.C. at first," Dave started, turning the glass in his hand. "Heard they had some sort of a refugee camp there. The interstate was so jammed up though we never got close enough to find out. We ended up pulling off the highway and started hitting the back roads instead. Everywhere we went we heard a new story or rumor about a way out."

Tony shook his head. "We just kept heading south, following one pipe dream after another."

Dave nodded and finished his drink. "What about you guys?" he asked, setting the glass down on the table. "Where are you headed?"

Rick took a sip of his bourbon before answering. "Fort Benning at some point."

Dave glanced over at Tony and then back over at Rick. "I hate to be the one to tell you this but Fort Benning is no more."

"You serious?" Glenn asked anxiously, resting his arms on the bar. "You guys were there."

"No," Dave said, "but we ran into a couple of grunts that were stationed there. They said the place was overrun. It started from the inside and spread so fast that by the time they were able to get people into quarantine it was too late." He glanced down at his hands and got quiet for a moment. "The truth is there are no safe places anymore. Tony and I know that better than anybody." He looked back up at Rick. "So what about you guys? You staying around here some place?"

Rick shook his head, suddenly uncomfortable with the line of questioning. "Not really, more or less just passing through."

Dave reached over to grab an ashtray from the table beside him, exposing the pistol tucked into the back of his pants. "I'm assuming those cars parked outside are yours. From what I could tell, it doesn't look like you're exactly living out of them."

"We just came into town for supplies," Hershel lied. "We've got a group waiting for us."

Dave took a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket. "So where are you guys holed up then?" he continued to probe. "Somewhere on the outskirts? An apartment like us or maybe a trailer park?"

"Campground?" Tony added, "or a farm?"

Rick tensed at the mention of a farm. He realized his expression must have given him away because Dave raised an eyebrow. "You guys staying on a farm?"

Rick didn't respond.

Dave leaned forward in his chair. "You guys got food and clean water? Safe places to sleep?"

"Look I think we've said enough," Rick said bluntly, setting his glass back down on the bar.

Dave raised his hand. "Now hold on a minute. This farm sounds like something we might be interested in." He glanced over at Tony. "Don't you think so?"

Tony nodded. "Yeah, I do. Sounds pretty good."

Dave looked back over at Rick. "Look where we're staying right now ain't all that safe. Just last night the whole place got overrun. We were lucky we only lost one of our group. It could have easily been more." He rubbed at his eyes. "We don't have access to clean water where we are and we all know that eventually the food is gonna run out. We could pool our resources, work together and make a go of this thing."

Rick could feel the tension in the room building. He looked Dave directly in the eyes. "I'm sorry but we can't."

Dave got quiet for a moment, looking down at the cigarette in his hand. "I don't understand. I thought we were all friends here."

"I don't know you or your group." Rick said evenly.

Dave gave him a tight smile. "We're just like you. People doing day in and day out what it takes to survive." He paused for a moment, nodding at Rick. "You know what I'm talking about. We've both been there, seen and done some things we'd probably both like to forget." He smiled at him again. "Now how about we take a ride back to this place of yours and get to know each other better?"

Rick watched him as he got to his feet and walked over to the bar. "I'm sorry but I'm not gonna do that."

Tony jumped out of his seat, grabbing onto the strap of his gun. "This is bullshit," he barked.

Rick raised his hand as the man approached him. "You need to get a hold of yourself. We're all adults here."

"Look asshole, don't you fucking tell me what to do," Tony shouted. "I'll shoot all three of you pricks and take your damn farm."

Dave stepped in between the two men. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, now. Let's all just calm down. Nobody's shooting anybody, right Rick?"

* * *

Daryl headed to the front of the hardware store, his crossbow slung over his shoulder, two padlocks in his pocket, a six foot length of steel chain over his arm and a shovel in his hand. The shovel wasn't initially on his list, but when he saw it hanging on the wall he didn't hesitate to grab it. They still hadn't done anything with Matt's body yet. Since no one but Tony seemed too keen on burning it and they didn't have the tools to bury it, it was still lying in one of the apartments. The shovel, he figured, would finally put the matter to rest.

Randall had been keeping watch while he searched the store. Almost nothing was left on any of the shelves, either already looted or strewn haphazardly onto the floor. Daryl had spent most of his time picking through over turned bins of fasteners and clamps until he found what he was looking for. He picked up a pair of work gloves near the register then walked over to find Randall waiting by the door. "You got everything?" Randall asked, turning his attention away from the window he was looking out of and back towards Daryl.

Daryl handed him the shovel and the length of chain. "Yeah, I think so."

"It's quiet out there," Randall commented, examining the items in his hand. "Haven't seen any geeks since we've been here."

Daryl tucked the gloves in his back pocket and slid his crossbow off his shoulder. "Good. Hopefully, it'll stay that way." He opened the door for Randall and the two of them stepped outside.

The sun was starting to go down, peeking through the clouds that had hung over them most of the day. Daryl could see Daniel and Nate's shadows stretched out in front of the truck as he approached them. "You two have any luck?" Daryl asked as he took the shovel from Randall and laid it in the back of the pickup.

Daniel shrugged. "It was pretty picked over, but we did manage to find some medicine and enough stuff to get the first-aid kits restocked. I got some extra gauze and tape for you. We should probably get those bandages of yours changed pretty soon."

Daryl nodded, realizing for the first time he'd managed to forget about his wound. "Where's Dave and Tony? I figured they'd be back by now."

Randall pointed across the street. "I saw them go into the bar while we were in the store. Must have decided to have a drink or something."

Daryl took the chain from Randall. "Well, why don't you go over there and let 'em know we're waiting on 'em?"

"Can I borrow your gun?" Randall asked Nate.

Nate gave him an annoyed look. "What the hell do you need a gun for? All you gotta do is stick your head inside the door."

Randall frowned at him. "Fine," he said as he began to back across the street. "All you had to do was say no."

"Kids these days," Nate muttered.

Daryl shook his head and sat down on the truck's tail gate, watching as Randall stepped inside the bar. Not thirty seconds later the sound of three gunshots came from inside. Daryl jumped down just as Randall came tearing out. "He shot 'em," Randall mumbled as Daryl ran over to meet him.

Daryl grabbed him by the arm, his first thought that Tony had finally lost it and shot Dave. "Hold on. Who shot who?"

"Some guy...inside...shot Dave and Tony."

It took a second for Daryl to register what the kid had actually said. He looked up as Daniel and Nate came up behind them, both men with their weapons drawn. "What the hell happened?" Daniel asked.

Randall looked at him wide-eyed. "Some guy shot Dave and Tony."

Daryl quickly loaded his crossbow, gesturing to Daniel and Nate "You two keep an eye out here and I'll check inside." He hurried over to the bar and peered through one of the windows, but it was too dark to make out anything. He aimed his crossbow at the door and quietly stepped inside.

The place was silent and Daryl could hear the sound of his own breathing as he approached the counter. He saw Tony's body slumped against the wall to his right, his gun lying on the floor next to him. He couldn't see Dave, but before he had the chance to look for him he heard more gunfire coming from the street.

He ran back to the door and saw Nate firing into the back alley. Daryl stepped outside just as a vehicle tore off, kicking up dirt and gravel around it. He raised his crossbow but it was too late. All he could see was tail lights as it turned the corner. He looked back towards the truck. A body was lying on the ground, its long form giving it away before he even approached it.

_...Daniel._

He ran over to the man's side, his stomach knotting at the sight of Daniel's blood stained shirt. Daryl dropped to his knees as Daniel gasped for breath. "Hang on man. You're gonna be fine." It was a lie. Daryl knew it the moment he said it. Daniel wasn't going to be fine. Neither of them was going to be fine.

* * *

**_A/N: _**_Thanks for reading. As always your reviews are greatly appreciated!_


	12. Lies

_**A/N:** When I had outlined this chapter I had envisioned a certain back story for Daryl, but then season three started and I had to change a couple of things to stay in canon. Hopefully any changes won't be too glaring._

* * *

"I can't believe it," Randall mumbled from the back seat of Daniel's truck. He leaned forward, invading Daryl's personal space as he tried to drive. "I mean geeks are one thing, but you never expect some Dirty Harry son of a bitch to just start firing on people." Daryl shifted slightly, tightening his grip on the steering wheel as the kid continued to ramble. "I'm thinking they must have wanted Dave and Tony's guns. Dave did have a nice one and he was always showing it off to people." Randall nodded to himself. "Yeah, that's probably what happened. I could see Dave doing that. Besides, I've seen people do crazier shit for less. Like the time I ran into this guy over at the 7-Eleven. He was crawling around on the floor with one of those…those….Hell, what do you call those things? You know the—"

"Would you shut the fuck up!" Daryl finally snapped, glaring up at him in the rear view mirror. "Jesus Christ, you haven't taken a breath since we got in the truck." Randall leaned back with a sour look on his face, having the good sense not to respond.

"You know this shit ain't gonna go over well," Nate said bitterly. Daryl glanced over at the man sitting in the seat beside him, having almost forgotten that he was there. Unlike Randall, he'd barely spoken a word since they'd left town. "Dave pretty much made all the decisions and Tony was the closest thing he had to a number two." Nate shook his head. "I still don't understand how this shit happened. I mean I know Tony wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but neither one of 'em was stupid. I just can't figure how they let those guys get the jump on 'em."

Randall leaned forward again, casting a tentative glance at Daryl. "All I know is that when I walked inside the guy just started shooting. First Dave and then Tony."

Nate rubbed his brow. "Fucking great," he muttered. "As if the damn geeks weren't bad enough, now we gotta worry about these assholes too."

Daryl knew Nate was right. They didn't know where these men were holed up. They didn't even know if they were alone or part of a larger group. They were killers—that's all they knew for sure.

"So how we gonna do this?" Randall asked, absently resting his arm across the back of Daryl's seat.

Daryl shot him a look in the rear view mirror. "Do what?" he almost growled as Randall's hand moved precariously close to Daryl's head. "You think we're all a buncha mind readers here?" The kid's ability to irritate him was growing by leaps and bounds.

"Tell the group," Randall frowned, shirking back in his seat. "I mean who's gonna do the talking and what are we gonna tell 'em."

Daryl didn't care what they told the rest of the group. The only one he was concerned about was Sarah. "I'm gonna tell Sarah. You guys can handle everybody else yourselves."

"You gonna tell her the truth?" Randall prodded—arms and other body parts situated securely in the back seat.

Daryl turned his head and squinted at him. "Why wouldn't I?"

Randall shrugged, barely making eye contact as he opened and closed the cup holder in the rear console. "I don't know. I just thought it might upset her more if she knew a random guy killed Daniel instead of some geek. I mean geeks you expect."

Daryl turned back in his seat, resting his arm on the side of the door. As much as he hated to admit it, the kid had a point. Maybe telling Sarah the truth wasn't in her best interest. He was just gonna give her another thing to worry about on top of everything else. Besides, walkers would be easier to explain. She would understand that. He took a long breath and exhaled….Shit, what was he thinking? Was he really gonna risk her finding out otherwise? She trusted him and he didn't want to screw that up. "I'm telling her the truth, so I suggest you guys do the same."

Neither Nate or Randall responded and Daryl took it that the decision had been made. He slid his hand down the side of the steering wheel and stared out at the road in front of him, grateful for the new found silence. He needed some time to think, to figure out how he was going to break the news to Sarah.

A couple of minutes later, he was pulling into the apartment building's parking lot. With everything that had happened in town they'd gotten back later than planned. It was dark now and the only light out was the little the moon offered. He parked the truck and pulled the keys out of the ignition, realizing for the first time he wouldn't be giving them back to Daniel. It was Sarah's truck now. He looked over at Nate and Randall. "Let's just grab what we need for tonight. The rest we can get in the morning."

Daryl reached over and grabbed his crossbow out of the back seat as Randall hopped out. Nate went around to the back of the pickup and climbed in the bed to retrieve the chain. Everything else could wait.

Randall headed out in front as Daryl and Nate followed, both men scanning the dimly lit area as best they could. The building was quiet and Daryl looked up to see that all the curtains had been drawn. Everybody must have been settling in for the night.

Randall opened the gate and when they reached the entrance they found Sean waiting inside the door. "I thought I heard you guys pull up," he said as the three men walked by him. "What the hell took you so long? I thought my ass was gonna fall asleep sitting here." He stuck his head back out of the door. "Where's Dave, Tony and Daniel? They still in the parking lot?"

Daryl looked over at Nate, waiting for him to start the explaining.

Sean's brow furrowed at the lack of response. "Oh shit!" he blurted out, his eyes moving from one man to the next. "Something happened, didn't it?"

Daryl took the question as his cue to leave. "I'm gonna head upstairs. You know where to find me." Nate gave him a reluctant nod and Daryl could suddenly feel the weight of the world on his shoulders. Everything was getting ready to change…for Sarah…for him. He took his time walking back to the apartment and after finally gathering himself together, he stepped inside. Sarah was standing on the balcony, her arms resting on the railing as she looked out at the yard. She turned in his direction, the smile she gave him cutting him to the bone. He was going to take that away from her—the smile and any bit of happiness she had left.

"Hey," she said as she stepped into the living room. The lantern flickered on the coffee table, warming her face, making her eyes light up. "You guys finally made it back. Did you find what you needed in town?"

He gave her a slight nod as she looked over his shoulder and back towards the door.

"Where's Daniel?" she asked as her eyes settled on his. "Is he still unloading the truck?" Daryl's hand began to sweat as he gripped the strap of his crossbow. He laid the weapon down on the kitchen table and glanced back up at her, knowing the answer was written all over his face. She got quiet for a moment. "He's at the truck, right? " she asked, her voice suddenly small.

"Sarah," he said as he moved towards her. "Something happened."

She began to back away from him, holding her hand between the two of them. "Don't say it. Don't you dare say it."

"Sarah, you gotta listen to me." He raised his own hand instinctively, as if he somehow needed to show he wasn't a threat.

She took another step away from him. "No, Daryl. Don't."

He moved closer, trying to take her by the arm to make her listen, but she wouldn't let him touch her. "You need to hear this from me and not somebody else…Daniel—"

Her eyes grew wide and even in the dim light of the room he could see her suddenly pale. She looked almost desperate, like an animal caught in a trap. "Please…just….stop," she pleaded.

He stood there, fixed, lost as to what to do. "I'm sorry," was all he could think to say.

Her lip began to tremble. "Not Daniel," she cried. "Please God, not Daniel." She started to sob, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

He reached out to her again and despite her prior protests, pulled her to him. He could feel her entire body shaking as he helped her to the couch. He knelt down on the floor in front of her, looking around for something she could dry her eyes with.

He realized he must not have heard the knock on the door because he was surprised to see a woman walk inside the apartment. He recognized her. It was the woman he'd carried from the yard. Rachel, he thought her name was. She gave him a knowing look then went over to Sarah.

Daryl got out of the way, standing by the door as Rachel spoke to her. He couldn't hear what she was saying, but he knew it had to be better than whatever he could have come up with. He held no misconceived notions that he had any idea of how to handle a situation like this.

Rachel helped Sarah to her feet, walking her towards the bedroom. "It's going to be alright," he heard her say, the words resonating, triggering something in his mind as she moved past him. He sat down on the couch as it all come rushing back. The images in his head as clear as the day itself.

_He was standing in the middle of the street again. Sirens blared around him, their high pitched whines drowning out the sounds of everything else. He rested his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. His friends Bobby and Wayne had beat him there, his legs no match for the brand new bikes they'd raced off on. _

_He looked up and saw them staring back at him, the excited looks on their faces no longer there…and he knew. It was his house the fire trucks had come for, his momma the one left inside._

_He ran towards his yard, smoke clouding his eyes as he pushed past the crowd gathered in front. He could see it now, the rubble and ash—what used to be his home. _

"_This ain't the place for you son," he heard a familiar voice say. He turned to see Mr. Wilkins, from two doors down, the man he'd rake leaves and cut grass for. He took Daryl by the arm. "Come with me boy. Your daddy still ain't got back yet."_

_Daryl watched the firemen rushing back to their trucks as Mr. Wilkins led him down the street. Daryl could see the troubled faces looking back at him. They knew. They all knew. _

_Mrs. Wilkins was waiting by the door as he climbed the three steps to their house. She rubbed her hand down the back of his hair as she led him into the kitchen. "It's going to be alright," she assured him, sitting him down at the table by the window. He stared quietly at the plate of cookies she'd set out in front of him, listening to the sirens blaring in the distance…knowing it wasn't true._

_It's going to be alright. _

Two hours later, Daryl still hadn't moved as he stared down the hallway at Sarah's bedroom. Rachel was still with her and he hadn't seen or heard a word from either of them in that time. Finally, he saw the light go out under the door. Rachel stepped out a moment later. "She's finally sleeping," she told him as she walked into the living room.

Daryl nodded.

"How are you doing?" she asked, giving him a sympathetic look. "Are you hungry? I can try to scrounge up some dinner for you if you like. It's the least I can do, since I never really got a chance to thank you."

"Thanks, but I ain't exactly hungry."

She smiled at him. "Alright, I'm right across the hall if you change your mind."

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_**A/N**: Thank you for your reviews. They are greatly appreciated!_


	13. Some Place Safe

_Daryl slid his crossbow off his shoulder as he made his way down the side of the ravine to the creek below. He could see it there, hung up in the branches of an old pine tree that had fallen…a doll. He glanced around him, his boots sinking into the ground as he stepped out into the water to retrieve it._

"_I always knew you were soft," a voice called out to him. "Never took you as one to play with dolls though." Daryl bristled at the snide laugh that followed. He knew it—heard it more times than he could think to count. He looked up to see Merle step out from the tree line across from him. "It's eatin' at you, ain't it, baby brother?"  
_

_Daryl glared at him as he tucked the doll through the back of his belt. "Ain't nothing eatin' at me," he said dismissively. _

_Merle let out a derisive huff as he walked over to edge of the creek. "You forget who you're talking to here?" he asked, pointing both hands back at himself. "You ain't fooling nobody. I know you…and better yet, I know a liar when I see one." He crouched down on the ground, running his hand through the water and splashing it up around his neck. "You always were one to turn tail and run for the woods whenever things got to be too much for you…like a damn wounded deer." _

"_I ain't running from nothing," Daryl growled, slinging his crossbow over his back, "and you…you ain't half as damn smart as you think you are."_

_Merle scratched at the side of his chin, his mouth straightening into a hard, thin line. "Well now, is that right?" he asked as he got back to his feet. "And here I was thinking you were running around here all by your lonesome cause you were feeling a right bit guilty."_

_Daryl eyed him suspiciously as Merle stepped across the shallow pool of water and walked towards him. "What do I gotta feel guilty about? I ain't done nothing but right by you." _

_Merle shook his head, "I noticed you weren't out there looking for old Merle today. Spent all this free time you got on your hands, cleaning up walker remains, boarding up windows like you was one of 'em." He took Daryl by the shoulder. "They. Ain't. Family," he said slowly, emphasizing each word with a tap of his fingers to Daryl's chest. _

_Daryl gritted his teeth as Merle gave him a firm shake and then released him. "I owed 'em."_

"_Owed 'em?" Merle echoed, letting out a loud hoot like it was the damnedest thing he ever heard. "You got a real funny way of paying 'em back then, baby brother. I mean after all that sweet little thing, Sarah, did for you, dragging your worthless ass out of the woods, cleaning you up, looking after you," he paused, giving Daryl a small, deliberate smile, "you go and return the favor by getting her brother all shot up for her."_

"_What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Daryl snapped, having had enough of Merle and his mind games. "Some asshole in that piece of shit bar shot Daniel…not me."_

_The dark smile on Merle's face widened. "Yeah, but you were the reason he was there, weren't you? You were the one who gave that nice, helpful piece of advice about the chain—the reason they all went into town in the first place." Merle fixed his eyes on Daryl's, nodding to himself. "Daniel went along cause he needed to hit the pharmacy, get those bandages and supplies for you. I guess you must have forgotten all about that, huh?"_

_Daryl swallowed hard, wanting Merle to shut the fuck up, wanting to wipe that damn smile off his face, but he couldn't speak, couldn't move. He was suddenly fixed to that spot, like the ground had taken a hold of him._

"_Shit boy," Merle continued to taunt, "you might as well have saved the man the trouble and shot him right there in his own damn living—"_

Daryl's eyes shot open as the sound of glass breaking jolted him awake. He wasn't standing in the woods with Merle. He was alone, sitting on the couch in the apartment living room. Somehow he'd managed to fall asleep. He knew it couldn't have been for long, because the lantern on the coffee table was still burning beside him. He picked it up, side-stepping the boots he'd left on the floor and took off down the hallway.

_Sarah's room. _

He was almost certain the noise had come from there. He rushed to her door and flung it open, thinking at best she must have woken and was upset enough to start breaking shit or at worst…Hell….he didn't even want to consider the worst.

Sarah jumped back towards the bed and away from the dresser where she was standing. "Jesus, Daryl," she gasped as he tore inside the room.

Daryl held the light out in front of him, trying to get a good look at her. Same jeans and button-up shirt she had on earlier in the day, no visible marks or anything unusual about her—it seemed pretty clear to him that she was fine. "Didn't mean to scare ya," he half mumbled, suddenly feeling foolish for over-reacting. He wiped his hand across his forehead—should have at least knocked, he thought. "I just heard something and I…uh…"

She pointed towards the floor. Pieces of something were lying on top of the vent beside the wall. "I was trying to find my flashlight when I accidentally knocked over that little ceramic clown that was on top of the dresser." She looked up at him and frowned. "I didn't mean to wake you. I just couldn't stand to be in the dark a minute longer."

Daryl set the lantern on the nightstand and got down on one knee. "I wasn't asleep anyway," he said mildly, brushing the broken pieces into his hand. "Besides, I'm kinda glad you broke the thing. Clowns always did give me the creeps." He noticed her expression soften when he glanced back up at her. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

_She doesn't blame me…doesn't see things the way Merle does._

"Just be careful where you walk," he said as he stood back up. "I'm sure I didn't get everything." He set the pieces down on the dresser, finding the flashlight she'd been searching for sitting on top. He clicked it on, making sure that it worked before he handed it to her.

She gave him the closest thing he could get to a smile and sat down on the bed. "Thanks."

Daryl stood awkwardly in front of her as she propped herself up against the headboard, not sure what he should do. Did she want to be alone? Did she _not_ want to be alone? She wasn't really giving him any indication one way or the other. He debated it for a moment before finally convincing himself that he should just leave—less chance of him saying or doing something stupid if he wasn't there in the first place. He tipped his head towards the door. "Guess I should be—"

"What happened?" she asked quietly, cutting him off, pretty much making the decision for him.

He ran his hand down the back of his neck, knowing he shouldn't have been surprised by the question, but surprised none-the-less. Of course she was going to want to know. "You sure you really want to get into all that right now? I mean it might be best if we talk about it after you've had a little more time to…" The words sort of died on the tip of his tongue. A little more time to what?...Rest?

She studied him for a moment as if carefully considering his question. "I need to know," she said softly, dropping her head into her hand. "It can't be any worse than the awful things I'm thinking."

He wasn't really sure how much truth there was to her statement. Yeah, one would think a gunshot wound would have been preferable to anything a walker could do to a person, but it wasn't like Daniel hadn't exactly...Hell, all he could really say was that Daniel had held on a lot longer than anyone would have expected. Daryl wouldn't have admitted it at the time, but he'd felt about as helpless as he could ever remember feeling. He always knew what needed to be done, how to push things down inside him and just react…but this time... Daniel wasn't going to make it—that much had been obvious. The bullet had done far too much damage to think anything else. But Daniel continued to hang on as they moved him inside the bar and Daryl had sat with him those final few moments as Daniel reluctantly closed his eyes. 'Tell Sarah I'm sorry' were the last four words he'd said.

Sarah slid over on the bed, making room for Daryl to sit beside her. He decided he was going to be straight with her. He never was good at tip-toeing around things and he was even worse at sugar-coating them. Besides, he was almost certain she'd be able to see through it anyway. She'd somehow managed to see through everything else.

"It wasn't walkers," he began, as they sat shoulder to shoulder, him watching her out of the corner of his eye, her looking down at the flashlight in her hands. "There were some men in the bar in town. Don't know why they were there or what they wanted, but Dave and Tony….They ran into 'em and some sorta fight must have broken out. Daniel somehow got caught up in the gunfire as they were leaving the bar." He paused for a moment as she finally looked up at him. "He didn't suffer," he added, answering the question he knew she was going to ask. "I don't even think he knew what happened."

She took a deep breath and looked back down at her hands. "Where is he?"

"Some place safe."

They sat there in silence for a while and Daryl began to debate again if he should leave. She seemed to be alright as far as he could tell. Although he was pretty sure most of it hadn't really sunk in yet. He turned towards her when she reached over to the nightstand and picked up a book. He could tell it wasn't her journal this time, but a fabric covered photo album with a small window in the center.

"Me and Daniel," she said, running her finger over the photo behind it. "This is my favorite picture of the two of us." She flipped to the first page in the book and Daryl could see the whole length of the photo now—a young Daniel, arms hanging over the shoulders of an even younger Sarah. "Daniel had just gotten his driver's license and I couldn't believe it when he offered to take me for a ride. I mean I was twelve at the time and never in a million years did I think he'd want to be seen in public with his little sister. But he didn't seem to care. He never acted like he was embarrassed by me." She smiled a little at the memory and then quietly flipped to the next page. "This was taken when Daniel graduated from high school and this was when he joined the Air Force Reserves," she said pointing at each of the following photos.

Daryl guessed he'd spent the next half hour or so, watching Sarah go through the album, listening to the stories that went with them. When she reached the end of the book, she paused for a moment and then looked up at him. "Were you and your brother close growing up?" she asked.

Daryl shook his head. "Nah, too many years between the two of us. I was only eight when Merle moved out of the house. Him and our old man never did see eye-to-eye and after our momma died it only got worse. First chance Merle got he was out the door. I never did see too much of him after that."

"I guess I was lucky then. I can't ever remember a time when Daniel wasn't around. Even when he went off to college, he somehow managed to make it home most weekends." She got quiet again and Daryl began kicking himself, sure he'd managed to say the wrong thing. She sank down onto her pillow, brushing her hand over his. "Will you sit with me," she almost whispered, "until I fall asleep?"


	14. Old Man Greene

_**A/N:**__ Sorry for the long delay on this chapter. I had these grand plans to do all this writing over the Christmas holiday, but unfortunately for me I became distracted by, well, everything. Soooo…my New Year's resolution this year is to stop procrastinating. Happy belated holidays to everyone and thank you so much for your reviews on the last chapter. Each and every one of them made me smile._

* * *

Daylight seeped through the room's blinds, casting a narrow strip of sun across Daryl's face. He shifted slightly then settled back against the soft warmth in front of him. It was the first decent night's sleep he'd gotten in days. No tossing or turning. No fucked up dreams to speak of.

He drew a long, deep breath as he stretched his legs, noticing for the first time the almost sweet scented air around him. Not sweat. Not smoke. Not death…for once. Foreign was all he could think. It almost smelled like…strawberries? He cracked one eye open as he tried to place it, half expecting to find that Sarah had lit some kind of girlie candle somewhere in the apartment. But it wasn't he quickly realized as he stared at the dark tumble of waves lying on the pillow beside him. Shampoo.…_Sarah's _shampoo.

…_.Oh shit._

He'd never gone back to his own bed. Sit with her until she fell asleep, she'd said, not sleep with her. Well, not _sleep_ with her, but sleep with her. Jesus, what the hell was he thinking? Her brother just died and here he was… He raised his head slightly, glancing down at his hand resting across the side of her hip. Hell…he wasn't sure exactly what it was he was doing.

He carefully lifted his arm off of her, watching the soft rise and fall of her back as she quietly slept. Maybe she didn't even know he'd spent the night. God, could he be that lucky for once? He made a move to climb out of the bed, figuring he could save them both a lot of awkward conversation if she didn't find him there. He dropped his bare feet to the floor, wincing as the bed creaked and shifted out from under his weight.

Sarah stirred a little and he froze, wondering if it would be worse to get caught in bed with her or get caught sneaking out of it. Before he had the chance to consider it, her hand flicked across the side of her cheek and then she settled again. He slowly released the breath he was holding as he pulled the covers back on top of her. Coward, he inwardly scoffed as he silently slipped out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him.

The apartment's narrow hallway was barely lit, but he could see the sun pouring through the balcony doors, stretching out across the floor in front of him. He rubbed at his eyes as he walked into the living room, kicking his boots from the edge of the coffee table towards the couch. It was quiet, he noticed as he sat down to put them on, no sounds coming from either inside the apartment or out. It must have still been early. He pocketed the truck keys from the kitchen table and grabbed his crossbow, glancing at Sarah's room one last time before he headed out.

Unlike the days before, every door on the building's third floor was closed. Daryl adjusted the weapon on his shoulder as he scanned the gold plated numbers that hung on each of them, trying to remember which apartment was Rachel's. After a moment of indecision, he finally knocked on the one directly across from him. Rachel answered a minute later, tying the belt on her robe as if she'd just gotten up.

Hell, maybe it was earlier than he thought. "Sorry if I woke ya," he said by way of an apology, garnering a small smile from her. He gestured back towards the apartment. "You mind sitting with Sarah for a while. I got some things I need to take care of and I'd rather she not be left alone…You know…with everything that happened and all."

"I planned on going over there anyway," she said, sweeping her hand through her slightly disheveled hair. "Just give me a minute to get dressed." She ran her eyes down the length of him as she stepped away from the door. "You want to come in and wait? I can throw something together for breakfast if you like."

Daryl shook his head. "Thanks, but I need to get going."

She smiled at him again as she leaned against the door frame. "I get it. Maybe some other time then."

He gave her a small nod then headed down the stairs and towards the lobby. A man he didn't recognize was keeping watch by the door. He offered Daryl a tired "morning" as he removed the broken chair leg from the door handle and let Daryl pass through, quickly closing the door behind him.

Daryl gripped his crossbow, his eyes searching as he stepped onto the concrete walkway. It was cool and clear outside. The clouds from the day before were all but gone, the sky as blue as he'd ever seen. It would have been a perfect day for hunting, he thought, as he made his way towards the parking lot, carefully approaching Daniel's pickup.

He reached over the edge of the truck bed, finding it exactly as they'd left it. He grabbed the shovel out of the back then went around to the driver's side to get the gloves he'd picked up at the hardware store.

With everything he needed, he crossed the parking lot and walked over to the rear gate, the chain he'd brought back securely in place. A knot started to form in his stomach as he worked the lock and unhooked it. They needed the damn thing he tried to remind himself as he stepped into the empty yard, securing the chain behind him.

He headed over to the far end of the fence that ran along the edge of the woods and glanced back at the apartment. It was the spot, he decided as he set the shovel down and pulled on his gloves, the place offering a view unobstructed by the shelter or anything else.

Over the course of the next hour or so, people began trickling into the yard. No one seemed to pay him any mind for the most part, until he noticed Randall walk up beside him. "You're digging more than one," he said.

Daryl wasn't sure if it was a comment or a question, so he answered it anyway. "Yeah, one for Daniel and one for Matt."

"You need some help?" Randall asked, kicking a clod of dirt across the grass.

Daryl stopped what he was doing and looked up at him. "Yeah, you know where Nate is? I'm almost finished here and I need somebody to ride into town with me."

"Him and Sean left a little while ago. Didn't say when they would be back."

"Damn it," Daryl swore as he jammed the head of the shovel back into the ground. "Figures." He wiped the back of his hand across his sweat covered forehead, glancing over at Randall. He wasn't Daryl's first choice, but he guessed he'd have to do. "You got some place to be?"

* * *

Daryl parked the truck in the empty alley beside the bar. "In and out," he told Randall as he grabbed his crossbow out of the back seat. "Play our cards right and this whole thing won't take longer than five minutes." Randall silently nodded, resting his elbow on the arm rest as he stared out at the street.

Warning flags went up. Randall wasn't talking. Not one word. Not one peep since they'd loaded into the truck. Daryl hadn't paid much attention at first, but now it was starting to concern him.

It hadn't taken him long to figure out that Randall liked to talk. Anything and everything was a source of discussion and distraction for the kid. It was like his mouth had a mind of its own, running off on a thousand different tangents at any point in time. "Something wrong?" Daryl reluctantly asked him, hoping the answer would be no, but figuring otherwise.

Randall shrugged his shoulders not bothering to look at him. "This whole thing is kinda weird I guess. I mean I'm used to dealing with geeks, you know, but this…" He absently scratched the back of his neck before finally glancing over at Daryl. "I mean I knew those guys inside is all."

"Yeah, well, the whole situation is fucked up all the way around," Daryl noted as he took Daniel's gun from the center console. "The sooner we get moving. The sooner it's done." He climbed out, tucking the pistol into the waist of his pants as he walked around to the back of the truck. Randall followed behind him, waiting as he let the tail gate down. "Like I said before, in and out."

After checking to make sure the street was still clear, they headed around to the front of the bar. Daryl looked up at the old brick building as they turned the corner and stepped onto the sidewalk. Now in the bright light of day it seemed different….Ordinary. Tired even. Not the grim and shadowy place from the evening before.

He shaded his eyes with his hand and peered through one of the door's large windows. They were streaked with finger prints and dingy but for once he had no trouble seeing towards the back. He slowly scanned the rear counter, catching a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. "Shit, he cursed, quickly crouching down on the ground and motioning to Randall to do the same. "Someone's in there."

Randall scooted over beside him, keeping his head below the edge of the window. "You don't think them guys came back, do you?"

Daryl pressed his back against the building and looked out at the street. No cars were parked anywhere that he could see and he didn't figure they'd be foolish enough to travel on foot. "Fuck if I know," he practically hissed as he tried to get another look inside the bar. There was only one of them from what he could tell. He could see the dark form as it moved past a row of tables and over to the far wall. "I'm gonna go around to the back entrance," he whispered. "Shouldn't be no problem taking the guy by surprise if I slip in from there." He pulled Daniel's gun from his hip and handed it to Randall. "You stay put until I get back. Don't use that thing unless you have to."

Getting a nod from Randall, Daryl got back to his feet and crept around to the side of the building. The alley was still empty, no signs of walkers or anyone else. He raised his crossbow as he approached the rear entrance and with one fluid motion opened the door. Light flooded inside the bar and he could see the outline of the man standing near the end of the counter. "Don't fucking move," Daryl barked, training his weapon on the man's head.

And it was in that moment that he knew. The faint blue and white stripes of the man's shirt suddenly obvious as the light moved across it, large sections of blood covering his chest.

_Daniel._

Daryl hardly had a chance to process what he was seeing before Daniel let out a low growl and lunged at him, his once clear, dark eyes now cloudy and cold. Daryl fired his crossbow as Daniel tore through the row of tables in front of him, his large body landing with a loud thud as the bolt hit its mark.

Daryl slowly approached the motionless form, his eyes darting around the room searching for anything he might have missed. But there was nothing. He was alone. "Holy shit, you killed him!" he heard Randall blurt out as Daryl reached down to pull his bolt from Daniel's skull.

"I didn't kill anybody," Daryl said dismissively. "It was just a walker." He turned back over his shoulder. "I thought I told you to wait outside."

Randall shrugged sheepishly as he walked up beside him, staring down at the corpse. "That kinda looks like—"

"It is," Daryl confirmed as he wiped the bolt on the back of his leg.

Randall glanced up at him with a confused look on his face. "What?...How?"

"You tell me. Did he somehow get bit after I came inside here yesterday?"

"No," Randall answered shaking his head.

Daryl eyed him closely as he took the pistol from the kid's hand. "You sure about that?"

"I was standing right there the whole time. Never even saw a walker." Randall began to fidget with the tail of his shirt as he looked around the room. "You sure one of them didn't get in here somehow?"

"I ain't seen a walker yet that could open a damn door," Daryl scoffed, tucking the gun into his pants.

Randall nodded as he looked back down at the body. "Maybe it was already in here when we brought him inside. Maybe we missed it somehow."

Daryl shook his head. "Don't see how we could have, nothing moving around in here but us." He rubbed at the side of his chin. "I guess it don't matter much now anyways. Let's just get him into the truck."

"We still gonna bring him back?" Randall asked incredulously.

"Yeah, and you ain't gonna tell anybody what you saw here. Sarah thinks Daniel was just shot and that's all she's gonna think. You got that?"

"You say so," Randall half mumbled as he glanced towards the back of the bar. "What about Dave and Tony?"

"Pretty safe to say there ain't gonna be none of them left to worry about." Daryl got down on one knee beside the body. "Let's get moving. We've wasted enough time already."

"Still can't believe all this shit happened in the first place," Randall remarked as he knelt on the floor by Daniel's feet. "I just don't understand how Old Man Greene got mixed up with the likes of people who could do this kind of thing."

Daryl squinted at him almost certain he must have misunderstood what the kid had said. "You just say you know those people?"

"No, just knew the old man that was sitting at the bar with 'em."

Daryl felt his jaw begin to tighten. "You didn't think that might have been a useful piece of information to share before now?"

Randall looked at him all wide-eyed like he was perplexed by the question. "He didn't do the shooting," he said quickly, as if that somehow explained everything.

"You got straw between your ears?" Daryl growled. "You ever think those men might be staying with this old guy you're talking about?" Randall only shook his head in response, serving to tick Daryl off even more. "You know where this man lives?"

Randall gave him a weak shrug. "Kinda. I've been there once for a party his daughter threw."

"You best think real hard," Daryl ground out, "cause first thing tomorrow you're gonna take me there."


	15. Hollow Promises

Daryl began to make his way out of the woods, silently following the path Sarah had shown him. It had only been two days since he'd made the trip to the ravine with her, four days since she'd found him, but as he trudged along the edge of the creek all he could think was how far removed he felt from any of it. Too much had happened since then. Too much had changed.

Dusk was fast approaching and he knew from the sun's position that he might have an hour, an hour and a half at best before nightfall. The afternoon's trip had been a waste. All the hours spent searching had amounted to nothing. He was still lost. His brother was still missing.

In the back of his mind he knew that what he was doing was pointless, the rain from the night before would have washed out any footprints or tamped down any other signs for him to follow. Let alone the mere fact that too much time had passed to think anyone would still be searching for him. But whether it was his own stubbornness or just the simple need to do something, he felt that he had to keep looking.

He readied his crossbow as he neared the truck, dispatching a lone walker that had ambled out from the road, taking notice of him. Not counting Daniel, it was only the second one he'd come in contact with all day. He removed the bolt from its partially exposed skull, brushing it against the side of his boot as he loaded into the pickup.

As the sun began to set, he drove back to the apartment, mulling over the morning's events at the bar. If he'd done it once he'd done it at least ten times already. Daniel had turned and no matter how much he tried to make sense of it he couldn't. He rubbed tiredly at his eyes as he stared out at the road. At least it was done now. Daniel was home.

When he finally made it back, he found the apartment was quiet. The living room was just as he had left it, pillows strewn across the back of the couch, the bottle of aspirin still sitting on the coffee table next to the lantern. He took his crossbow from his shoulder and walked towards the back bedroom, wondering if Rachel had come over like she'd promised.

"Sarah," he called out, feeling suddenly uneasy by the sight of her empty room.

"In here."

He stepped back into the hallway and opened the door across from him. Sarah was sitting cross-legged in the center of Daniel's bed, her eyes were tinged with red, clothes and books scattered around her. He noticed she had changed from the white button-up shirt she had on the night before into a black one with dark jeans. He wasn't sure if the clothing choice was just a coincidence or a testament to where her head was. "You alright?" he asked.

She quickly wiped her hand beneath her eye. I'm fine," she said, giving him a weary smile that said otherwise. He didn't even know why she bothered to lie. She was so bad at it. "I'm just going through some of Daniel's things."

Daryl propped his crossbow against the wall then sat down at the end of the bed. "Rachel stop by at all today?"

"She came over first thing this morning. She left a little while ago."

He nodded his head, watching as she sifted through the stack of books beside her. "It looked like they were fixing dinner outside. You eat yet?"

She leaned over to the foot of the bed and picked up her photo album that was sitting next to him. "I'm not really hungry."

"Sarah," he sighed, reaching out to lift her chin so she had to look at him. "You didn't eat nothing yesterday either. You need to eat. Ain't got enough meat on your bones as it is."

She sat back on her heels, looking almost dejected as she placed the album on the corner of the nightstand. "I don't want to go down there….They're all going to be staring at me, whispering about what happened." She took a deep breath as she gathered the clothes circled around her. "I'm not ready to deal with them…or any of that right now."

Daryl sat there, quietly regarding her as she folded one of Daniel's shirts across her lap. "If I go down there and bring you something back, will you eat?" he asked, nudging the side of her leg with his hand.

She looked up at him. "I'm just not in the mood to—" He narrowed his eyes at her, silently conveying his dissatisfaction with her impending answer. When she bit down on the side of her lip, he knew his point had been made. "Okay…maybe just a little."

"All I ask," he said as he got up from the bed. "Be back in a bit."

He shouldered his crossbow as he walked out of the bedroom and then headed out to the yard. Night had almost set in, but the near full moon shone enough light that he could make out all the faces gathered there. He spotted Randall, Nate and Sean seated by the campfire and gave them a small nod of acknowledgement. Everyone else was congregating under the shelter and it didn't take too much effort to hear the source of their conversations. Sarah was right. She wouldn't have wanted to be there.

He found Rachel dishing out food at one of the picnic tables, and after dancing around what seemed to be a near endless string of her questions regarding his day, he decided he didn't much want to be there either. He rubbed absently at the back of his neck as she put together a couple of plates for him, then offered her a quick "thanks" before returning to the apartment. Sarah came out of the bedroom a moment later, barefooted, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. "You wanna eat in the kitchen or the living room?" he asked her.

She pointed to the coffee table then walked over and sat on the floor in front of the couch. He took a seat beside her, setting both plates in front of the two of them. "Looks like a pretty good meal tonight," he remarked as he reached over to light the lantern. "Rachel said that Nate and Sean went out today and bagged themselves a nice sized doe."

Sarah carefully examined her food before taking a small bite. "It's good," she said almost hesitantly as if surprised by the fact. "I'm sure everyone must have been excited. It's been a while since we've had any meat."

Daryl only nodded as he watched her fork move around her plate, confirming for himself that she was actually eating it instead of just playing with it.

"This is the first time I've had venison," she finally admitted as they both quietly finished their dinner. "It's not what I expected."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "You a city girl or something?" he asked genuinely curious. He hadn't really considered it before, but he couldn't imagine coming from around these parts not having eaten deer at least once at some point.

"No, nothing like that," she replied, shaking her head. "I just saw the movie _Bambi _when I was a kid and never could stomach the idea of eating deer after that…actually Thumper is the reason I never ate rabbit."

He fought off a grin as he picked up a forkful of the afore mentioned 'Bambi'. "You got a problem eating Disney characters or just animals in general?"

She glanced up at him and shrugged her shoulders. "Just the cute ones."

"Damn you are such a girl," he said mildly, drawing a small smile from her.

"I'm getting better about that sort of thing though. I've already eaten squirrel and the day we found you in the woods was my first hunting trip." She paused, flicking her eyes towards the ceiling. "Well, I wasn't actually _hunting_," she amended. "Daniel just let me tag along with him for once." She looked out at the balcony and got quiet for a moment. "Speaking of you, we should probably get those bandages of yours changed. It's been a while."

"Now's as good a time as any," he said, as he moved out from behind the coffee table. He leaned back against the couch and lifted the end of his shirt, revealing the stained patch of gauze beneath his ribs.

Sarah slid over beside him and inspected the wound. "You're definitely due. Just give me a second."

Daryl stretched his legs out along the floor, watching as she disappeared down the hallway only to return a moment later with the first-aid kit. She sat down to his right, setting out the supplies on the coffee table beside her. "Your shirt?" she said as she turned back towards him.

He half mumbled something that sounded like "right," suddenly feeling self conscious about undressing in front of her. Granted, she'd already seen him half naked, probably had her hands all over him and his scars, but that was before…

He did his best to avoid her eyes as he shrugged out of his shirt. "Looks like the bruising is getting a lot better," she said as she began to remove the old tape from the edge of the gauze. He held his breath, trying not to stir as her fingers brushed against his skin. "Looks like it's healing really well. I don't think the scar will be too bad."

He grunted out a low, "uh huh," keeping his eyes fixed on her hands as she carefully cleaned and rebandaged the wound.

"Can I get you to turn over so I can get to the other one?" she asked when she was finished.

He silently nodded then rolled onto his left side, propping himself up on his elbow. The balcony doors were directly in front of him now and he could see her reflection in the glass as she leaned over him. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as her fingers trailed over his back.

"Daryl?" He felt her hand move to the side of his arm and he looked over his shoulder at her. She raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah?"

"I asked if you wanted me to redo the bandages on your hand? They look like they're starting to come loose."

"You done already?" he asked, thoroughly confused. Hell, had he fallen asleep? He could have sworn she barely touched him.

"Yes, unless you want me to take a look at your knuckles."

"Nah, they're alright."

She slipped her hand from his arm as he sat back up. "I guess you're good to go then."

"Thanks…You want me to take a look at yours for you?"

"I think I'm fine for now." He reached over and picked up his shirt, keenly aware of her eyes skimming over him. "Why don't you take one of Daniel's button-ups?" she asked. "That one of yours has seen better days." He really couldn't disagree with that, what with all the blood stains and bolt holes. "There's a stack on the chair in Daniel's room. All have sleeves unfortunately."

He couldn't help but grin at the comment. "Not necessarily a bad thing. It is starting to get cool." She shook her head at him as he picked up the lantern and turned towards the bedroom._  
_

Having located the pile of clothes Sarah had described, he sorted through it, opting for the darkest colored, and least likely to draw attention to himself, shirt he could find. He stood in front of the full length mirror hanging on the closet door, inspecting himself as he dressed. Sarah was right. His bruises had begun to fade and he was looking a lot more like himself than he had just two days before. Maybe everything was starting to fall into place. Maybe he needed to be patient.

He picked up the lantern and walked back into the living room, finding Sarah sitting out on the balcony. She glanced up at him as he leaned against the doors. "Thank you for doing that," she said quietly, tilting her head towards the graves he'd dug earlier in the day. "It really means a lot."

He stepped outside and sat down beside her. "How'd you know I did?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I just couldn't imagine anyone else caring enough to bother."

"Daniel deserved a decent burial. It was the least I could do."

She looked over at him and smiled. "Look, I know you've spent a lot of time helping me…helping all of us…but that's done now. You need to focus on yourself. Tomorrow I want to go with you and spend the whole day doing whatever we need to do to help you find your brother."

He shook his head. "We can't."

"What?" she asked in confusion. "Why not?"

"I think I might know where those men from the bar are."

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Please tell me you're not saying what I think you're saying."

"We're going to set things right, Sarah."

She turned to face him. "No, Daryl," she said sternly. "What's done is done. Nothing you or anybody else does is going to bring Daniel back. I don't want you stirring up trouble with those people. I've already lost my brother. I couldn't take anything happening to you too."

"Don't you see that's the point? Those people are out there somewhere and as long as they are, they're a threat."

Sarah bit down on the side of her lip. "You said you should have listened to me before, well listen to me now. Don't do this."

"This is different."

"Different?" she asked, her voice steadily rising. "How different? You don't think I see where this is going. They've already killed Daniel. What makes you think they won't hesitate to kill you too?"

He looked away from her and back out at the yard. "I can handle this. I ain't gonna do anything stupid."

"Okay, go then," she said bitterly as she got to her feet. "I should have known from past experience that it was useless to argue with you."

Daryl took her by the wrist as she tried to walk away. "Sarah that ain't fair. You know I'm doing what's best for you in the long run."

She pulled her hand from his. "Don't you dare say that! I'm asking you not to go so you damn well better know you aren't doing this for me."

He shook his head. "You're getting yourself all worked up for nothing. I promise I'll be fine."

She stared down at him as she turned to leave. "You shouldn't make promises to people you don't know if you can keep."

* * *

**_A/N: _**_Thanks for reading! If you get a chance please drop me a line. I love hearing from you guys!_


	16. On Common Ground

"You sure this is the way?" Daryl asked as he slowed the truck, taking a right onto the hard packed gravel road Randall had directed him to.

Randall leaned forward in the passenger seat and pointed to the small white sign that marked the intersection. "The turn before was the one I wasn't so sure about. This one I am. Briarcreek," he read aloud. "The place ain't too far from here."

Daryl rested his left hand on top of the steering wheel, running the edge of his thumb across his lip with the other. They were close. Even without Randall's assurance he felt it. The trees that lined the side of the road had abruptly ended, replaced by split rail fences and wide, flat fields that were beginning to brown. It wouldn't be long now. They were going to find these people. He was going to finally set his mind to rest.

His eyes swept across the acres of farmland, overgrown and empty, save for the random walker he'd spot trampling down a ragged path towards the road. He didn't give it much consideration or concern, too consumed with thoughts of his own.

The two of them had left first thing that morning. As soon as the sun was up so was Daryl. Sleep had eluded him most of the night, daylight finally offering a reprieve from all the hours he'd spent tossing and turning. She had gotten to him. Not with the disapproving look she burned through him when she stormed off and left him on the balcony alone. Not with the cold shoulder she gave him as she retreated to Daniel's room for the night. Four words had done it. Four words that weren't even meant for him to hear.

He had stood there, in the middle of the hallway, listening to her muffled sobs coming from inside the bedroom. It had been at least an hour since she'd closed herself off, and he wasn't sure if it was the fight with him or the absence of Daniel that had finally broken her down. Eventually she stopped crying, only to start talking heatedly to herself a moment later. "…he's so stubborn…foolish…," her words came out choked and harsh, but he could hear them easily as he rested his head against the door.

It was him. He was the one who'd finally set her off.

'Good for nothing', 'worthless', 'a mistake' and Merle's personal favorite 'pussy', he'd been called all those things and worse. He'd almost become immune to it. His old man had seen to that with the barrage of insults he would spew at him when he bothered to acknowledge him at all. 'Stubborn' and 'foolish' were nothing in comparison. But they bothered him. Bothered him that those words had come from her.

He'd wanted to throw open the door and gone in there to defend himself. Tell her she was wrong about him and the things he needed to do. But he knew it would be pointless. He'd already said his peace and she'd already said her's. No amount of arguing was going to change his thoughts on the matter. From the sounds of it, nothing was going to change her's either.

He'd left her that morning with only a note on the table.

_Took the truck. Be back later._

_Daryl_

Short. To the point. He knew that she would be mad when she found it. He almost added 'sorry' at the end but decided against it. She would have misinterpreted what he'd meant by it. Thought he was sorry for taking the truck without asking or sorry that he had gone against her wishes in the first place. All he was really sorry for was the fact that he'd upset her.

He drove the next two miles, chewing on his thumbnail, wishing he'd handled things differently. He should have just lied to her. Made up some excuse why she couldn't have come with him. She didn't have to know about any of it. At least not now. Maybe not ever.

"It's right past the next curve." Randall's voice called out, pulling him away from his thoughts.

Daryl stopped the truck, resting both arms on the top of the steering wheel as he tried to get a better look. "How do you know it's this one?" All these curves look the same."

Randall gestured toward the side of the road. "I ran my car off into that ditch up there after that party I was telling you about. Scared the shit out of me but not near as bad as my dad did when I got home. Did six hundred dollars worth of damage. I didn't forget."

It was as good a reason as any, Daryl figured. He eased the truck into a small turn off just ahead of them, concealing it in a stand of trees that ran along the back. "Tell me about this farm. How's it laid out?"

Randall propped his elbow on the side of the door as he looked out of the passenger side window. "There's a barn not too far off to the left of the house. Stables in the back. There's a bunch of little out buildings and the like but I can't remember where they all were."

"Woods go all the way around?" Daryl asked, as he took Daniel's pistol out of the center console. He had no plans to use it, opting to handle things with his crossbow instead, but he wasn't stupid. He had no idea what he might be walking into and he wanted to make sure he was prepared.

"As far as I can remember. I don't recall there being any neighbors close by either."

Daryl released the clip on the gun, confirming the number of rounds he had left. Only two were missing. Daniel must have gotten a couple shots off that night in town. "That's how we go then," he said, slipping the extra clip inside his pocket.

Randall turned away from the window. "What exactly are we gonna do if we find them?"

"Depends."

"On what?" Randall asked with a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"What we find when we get there." Daryl reached across the back of the seat to retrieve his crossbow, not bothering to elaborate any further. There were too many variables to consider and he didn't feel like going through a string of 'what ifs'. He had no intention of getting Randall involved anyway. All he needed was the kid to point out the men they were looking for. He would handle everything else. "You got everything?" he asked as he opened the driver side door.

Randall picked up the set of binoculars that Daryl had asked him to bring and placed the strap around his neck. "Think so," he told him as he climbed out of the truck.

Daryl shouldered his crossbow and slid the pistol into the waist of his pants as he walked around to Randall's side. He shaded his eyes with one hand, pointing towards the curve in the road with the other. "We'll come in through those woods over there and slip around to the back of the house. See if we can get a good look from there." Randall nodded, falling in step beside him as he made his way towards the tree line.

It was nothing like the trip he'd made to the ravine with Sarah. Less than a hundred yards into their trek Daryl had figured that out. While Sarah had been quiet and cautious, Randall was noisy as hell and easily distracted, constantly looking at everything but where he was walking. Daryl finally had to stop, biting back his irritation and directing Randall to only step where he did. Randall followed his instructions without question and over the next half hour that moved silently through the woods only stopping once for Daryl to take down a walker that had staggered out into their path.

They slowly neared the farm, and as they got closer, Daryl could see the outline of a barn come into view. He stopped and crouched down behind a large pine tree, Randall moving in behind him. "This the place?" Daryl asked, taking a good look around.

Randall raised himself up slightly, craning his neck around Daryl's head. After what seemed to be a moment of indecision he finally answered. "I think so."

Daryl let out a heavy sigh and turned around to look at him. "What do you mean you think so? This the place or not?"

Randall shrugged his shoulders, cutting his eyes away from Daryl's. "Barns all kinda look the same. If I could see the stables I'll know for sure."

"Stables? Don't all damn stables look the same too?" A shit-eating grin formed on Randall's face. Daryl narrowed his eyes at him, wondering what the hell he found so damn amusing about the question.

"These I know. Let's just say Jenny Atwater gave me a nice tour of the place the night I was here." He raised his eyebrows slightly as if to clarify his meaning.

Daryl rolled his eyes. Car in the ditch. Jenny Atwater in the stables. "Must have been a helluva party." He stepped away from the tree, motioning for Randall to follow him. They made the short distance in a matter of minutes and Daryl didn't waste any time before heading towards the edge of the woods. He came to a stop about fifteen feet behind the tree line, his eyes scanning the property. For the first time he could see the house. Only the back of it was visible from where he was standing, but as his gaze followed the lines of the wide porch up to the green tiles on the roof, it seemed somehow familiar. Probably reminded him of his grandma's place or maybe all those old farmhouses looked the same. He didn't give it anymore thought as he gestured to Randle. "Take a look for yourself," he told him, as he pointed over at the stables. "See if it rings any bells."

Randall moved next to him and raised the binoculars. After taking a moment to adjust the lenses he finally nodded. "This is the place. That iron horse and carriage sign is hanging out front just like I remember."

Daryl slipped his crossbow off his shoulder, taking a seat against one of the trees. "Now all we have to do is wait."

Randall knelt down beside him and looked back towards the house. "What exactly are we waiting for?"

"They have stables here," Daryl began, as he stretched out his legs. "If they have stables they have horses. Horses have to be fed. That's what we're waiting for—for someone to come out and feed the horses." He tipped his head towards the tree across from him and waited for Randall to take a seat. "You keep an eye out for that and I'll keep an eye out for everything else."

Daryl sat there, staring out at the woods and Randall back at the house. Neither made an attempt at conversation and it wasn't until two hours into their watch that Randall finally broke the silence. "You ever gonna tell me what you plan on doing if we actually see these guys?"

Daryl glanced over at him. "Gonna make them answer some questions."

"Then what?" Randall asked, holding his gaze.

"Depends on whether I'm satisfied with the answers or not."

Randall got quiet as he looked back at the house. Another half hour passed before he finally spoke again. "You ever killed anybody?" he asked.

Daryl shifted against the side of the tree and shook his head. "Not yet."

"Me neither. I ain't opposed to it or nothing. I mean if I had to I guess I could …" Randall trailed off, suddenly distracted by something in front of him. "I think I see someone," he said lowering his voice. Daryl whipped his head around, looking in the general direction that Randall was staring. He could see a couple of people down by the barn, but they were too far out to tell much more. Randall got down on his stomach, raising the binoculars to his eyes. "It's a man and woman…Looks like they might be arguing or something."

Daryl felt a surge of adrenaline shoot through him as he turned and crouched down behind the tree. "Is it one of the men from the bar or not?"

Randall paused for a moment. "It's kind of hard to tell…Hold on the woman's leaving."

"Shit," Daryl cursed as he moved closer to the tree line.

"Wait. Wait. The man…he's walking back towards the barn." They both watched silently as the man moved closer to them. Even with the distance between them, Daryl could tell that he seemed distressed, his hands moving through his hair and down the sides of his face.

"Is that one of them?" Daryl asked again.

Randall got back to his feet, and after what seemed like an eternity, he finally answered. "It's one of them…The one that did the shooting."

Daryl pulled the pistol from his hip and handed it to Randall. "Wait here. You know the drill. Don't use that thing unless you have to."

"You don't want—"

Daryl raised his hand. "I want you to stay here," he said firmly. He didn't give Randall a chance to piss and moan about it before he left him and began to make his way along the edge of the woods towards the man. Daryl gritted his teeth as he watched the son of a bitch just standing by the barn, his shoulders dropped, his head resting in his hands. For a moment Daryl thought he was praying. His anger began to mount as he considered the notion. Sarah praying for her dead brother's soul and this bastard who killed him was asking for what? His jaw tightened as he quietly approached.

The man was right there in front of him now, alone, with his back to Daryl. A damn near perfect target. Daryl raised his crossbow to his shoulder. "Don't move asshole," he practically hissed at him. "I've gotta crossbow aimed at the back of your head and I'm just looking for a reason to pull the trigger. Now your gonna hold your hands out where I can see them and slowly walk towards me. One wrong move and I'll shoot you dead where you stand." The man held his hands out to his sides and slowly turned around. For a moment Daryl couldn't figure out what the guy was doing. He just stood there, his eyes searching Daryl, making no effort to move. "Quit fucking stalling," Daryl growled.

"Daryl?"

Daryl flinched at the sound of his name. What…? His eyes flicked to the man's face.

"We…we thought you were dead."

Daryl blinked in confusion as he tried to…

"Glenn, T-Dog, Maggie, Andrea…."

The hell? Daryl's head began to spin as he tried to make sense of what he was hearing.

"…we've all been trying to find you," the man explained as he dropped his arms to his side.

"I told you to keep your fucking hands up," Daryl barked. The man slowly raised his arms again, holding his hands up in front of him. Daryl suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe. He recognized this man…had heard the placating sound of his voice before.

"If this has something to do with Merle," the man dared to speak. "We can figure this all out. I never meant—"

Merle? How the hell did he know Merle? Daryl stood there silently, his mind racing as he tried to place the man standing in front of him. He wasn't sure if five seconds or five minutes had passed because everything seemed to slow down…the man…his own thoughts.

"Rick?" Daryl said the name as it came to him without warning. He could see the man's expression soften, his mouth begin to move, but Daryl couldn't hear him. It felt like he was under water—everything around him somehow muted and dim. The quarry, the highway…the farm. One by one they all came back to him. Not slowly like he'd imagined but suddenly like someone had just flipped a switch.

Rick Grimes was looking back at him. The man who'd lost Sophia. The same one he'd walked along the highway with as they tried to find her. Rick Grimes who'd been searching for him.

Daryl slowly lowered his crossbow as Rick began to walk towards him. Any relief he felt was short lived when the sound of movement came from the woods. Daryl turned to his left to see Randall standing there, Daniel's pistol in his hand.

"Now, you just need to back off," Randall called out to Rick, his voice breaking as he waved the gun out in front of him.

"Shit, Randall," Daryl snapped, raising one hand in front of him, "put the damn gun down." Randall furrowed his brow, obviously confused. "You don't—" Before Daryl had the chance to explain, a gun shot rang out and he saw Randall drop to his knees and fall heavily to the ground in front of him.

* * *

_**A/N:**__ Finally, Daryl is back on the farm. Things should pick up pretty quickly from here on out. Thanks for reading! And as always, your reviews are greatly appreciated :)_


	17. Homeward Bound

When Daryl rolled out of bed that morning, he considered a few ways his day might play out. Either waste it searching all over hell and back for a farm that Randall might have remembered how to get to; actually find the place but not the men he was looking for; or the third option—and hell, he'd really been counting on the third—finding them both.

Ending up sitting in the living room of the Greene farmhouse, finding out the men he was searching for were members of his own group, which up until that point he didn't even know existed, was not even on his radar. And damn if it didn't make his head hurt as he tried to contemplate how he'd gotten himself in this situation.

Randall had been shot and might even be dead for all he knew. With Rick's help Daryl had managed to get him quickly back to the house, but Randall had become unresponsive by the time Hershel had gotten the chance to take a look at him. Daniel's death may or may not have been Daryl's own fault, but there was no doubt in his mind that Randall's would be. All he could do was wait and hope that when Rick and Hershel stepped outside of that bedroom door, the news would be what he wanted to hear.

He ran his hands over his face, wondering why Randall would have put himself in harm's way—for him of all people—and wishing he was anywhere but on that uncomfortable couch, feeling the walls closing in on him. They were all gathered there, Glenn, T-Dog, Andrea, Maggie, watching him, evaluating every word that came out of his mouth. He didn't doubt that any of them were glad to see him, even to someone as jaded as himself, the pats on the back and the smiles they gave him seemed sincere enough. He took it all in as best he could, knowing that not once in his life had he ever done anything to warrant the kind of attention they were giving him. But with all that, never had he ever wanted to head for the woods more than he did at that moment.

"So you just forgot…everything?" Another question in a string of many. This time it came from T-Dog.

Daryl's eyes flicked to the stocky black man leaning against the fireplace beside him. The man who'd dropped the key and left Merle on the roof top of that building in Atlanta. It had all started to come back. Every face he saw staring back at him, unlocking memories he'd long since thought forgotten. Merle wasn't lost, not the way Daryl had been. His brother had left on his own accord and for all Daryl knew he might not even want to be found. "Yeah, everything."

"From hitting your head?" Another one. This time from Andrea. Apparently, his condensed story telling abilities left something to be desired.

Daryl looked over at the icy blonde woman; the one he now remembered had lost her sister back at the quarry. His jaw tightened and he wasn't sure if it was due to the third degree he was now being subjected to, or the skeptical nature of her tone that had made him bristle at the question. "All I know is I woke up at the bottom of a ravine with a splitting headache. Guess you can draw your own conclusions."

"And these other people found you?" T-Dog followed up.

Daryl only nodded.

Andrea crossed her arms over her chest as she stared down at him. "And these people were members of the same group that Rick, Glenn and Hershel ran into at the bar?"

"Yeah," Daryl said bluntly, having already answered all these questions, first with Rick, and then with Lori when he'd made the mistake of letting her corner him inside the house. No doubt the slip of a woman had been the one to spread the word to everyone else that he was back. He rubbed his temples as the dull ache in his head began to throb. "They took me in. Been with them this whole time." He let out a heavy sigh, dropping his hands to his lap. "Can we cut the interrogation short? All this talking is making my damn head hurt." Andrea only raised an eyebrow at his gruff response. He gave her what he figured passed as an apologetic look then got up off the couch and walked down the hall to the bedroom Randall had been taken to. The door was still closed and he hoped the fact that Hershel was still in there was a good sign. He propped his arm against the wall, waiting for someone to finally come outside and tell him something.

"Daryl." He turned away from the door, realizing that Glenn had followed him out of the living room, the kid who always made the supply runs, one of the few people willing to go back into Atlanta to find Merle. "Man, I'm really sorry about this. Like I said before, I didn't know. I just saw the guy waving his gun at Rick and…."

Daryl took a deep breath as he pushed himself back off the wall. "I ain't blaming you for what happened. You were just trying to protect the group. Probably would have done the same thing myself."

Glenn looked almost relieved as he glanced over Daryl's shoulder and back at the bedroom door. "This group you were with," he said quietly as he shoved his hands inside his pockets, "what kind of people were they?"

"I can't speak to all of 'em because I didn't know 'em all, but the ones I did, they were…_are_," Daryl amended, as he thought about Sarah waiting for him back at the apartment, "good people."

"It's just that the ones we ran into in town…"

"Were what?" Daryl asked, curious to hear what Glenn had to say about them. He still didn't know exactly what went down in the bar except that Rick was responsible for the shooting.

"They didn't seem like good guys…I mean they did at first, but then they sort of turned. One of them ended up pulling a gun on us and Rick had to take them both out."

Knowing Glenn, Daryl didn't doubt that any of it was true. He just hated that Daniel managed to get caught up in the middle of it. "Like I said before, I didn't know 'em all."

"Mr. Dixon," a soft voice politely interrupted the conversation. Daryl's ears perked up at the sound of the name. His first thought was of his grandpa. No one had ever made the mistake of calling him mister before and even his sorry excuse for a father never earned the title himself. He looked past Glenn to see the blonde haired girl standing in the middle of the hallway. His chest tightened at the sight. _Sophia. _All gangly arms and legs, the round freckled face he'd know from anywhere. Rick had told him the girl had been found, but this was the first time he had the chance to see it for himself. His gaze traveled from her up to the woman standing behind her, _Carol_, her blue eyes regarding him thoughtfully, only this time they didn't seem as sad as he'd remembered. "I wanted to say thank you," Sophia continued, dropping her eyes to the floor, her momma's hands resting gently on her shoulders, "you know…for everything you did."

Daryl got down at eye level with her as she twisted her arms together in front of him. "Whatcha thanking me for? Glenn and Maggie were the ones that found you."

"Yeah, but momma said they wouldn't have if you hadn't gone out looking for me and gotten yourself hurt."

Daryl looked up at Carol with a curious eye. She gave him a hint of a smile as she brushed her fingers through Sophia's hair. "Well, your momma's got a strange way of looking at things." Sophia shrugged her shoulders and he couldn't help but smile a little himself. She was the one real bright spot in an otherwise shitty excuse for a day. "I'm real glad you're alright though."

Carol leaned over and whispered something into Sophia's ear, sending the girl running off towards the living room immediately after. "You were right," Carol said softly. "You never lost faith that she'd be found, even when I started to lose it myself." She gave Glenn a nod of acknowledgement then turned her attention back to Daryl. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to let you know that we're all glad you're finally home. Somewhere deep down I knew you'd find your way back to us." She gave Daryl another small smile and then without another word headed back in the direction Sophia had run off to.

"She was real torn up when you went missing," Glenn told him after Carol was gone. "I mean not that we all weren't, but you know."

"Well, she worries too much for her own good. Probably wouldn't…" Daryl trailed off at the sound of the screen door slamming shut. He looked up to see Shane storm in a moment later, the one person he had the least interest in seeing.

"Heard you were back," Shane called out, eyeing Daryl suspiciously. "Looks like you're in one piece. Mind filling me in on just where the hell you've been all this time?"

Daryl felt his jaw tighten at the confrontational tone of Shane's voice. He guessed he shouldn't have been surprised. The man never did hide the fact that he didn't give two shits about him or his brother. He would have responded in kind, if he hadn't been distracted by the door suddenly opening behind him.

Hershel stepped outside of the bedroom wiping his hands on a small towel spotted with blood, Rick and some woman that Daryl could only vaguely recall following behind him. "The boy is stable," Hershel finally said and Daryl felt a little of the weight lift off his shoulders. "He lost quite a bit of blood, but as long as we can keep the risk of infection down, he has a good chance. We should know something in the next day or two."

"What boy?" Shane asked incredulously, directing his question at Rick. "What the hell's going on around here?" He jerked his thumb towards the front door. "All eagle-eyed Dale out there would tell me was that Daryl was back."

Rick took Shane by the arm. "Give me a minute and I can explain everything," he said, guiding Shane towards the end of the hallway. Hershel and the woman took the opportunity to excuse themselves, leaving Daryl and Glenn alone again. Both men watched silently as the conversation between Rick and Shane grew heated. It ended a moment later when Shane pressed his fingers into Rick's chest before storming back over to Daryl.

"I still ain't sure what the hell to make of this whole situation," Shane said bitterly, pointing towards Randall's room, "but the one thing I do know is that kid in there is a problem. One that we're gonna have to deal with." He turned back to face Rick. "You know I'm right."

Daryl shook his head, not missing the worried look Glenn gave him. "I brought him here. He's my problem."

"That's where you're wrong," Shane shot back. "As long as he's here he's _our_ problem."

"He's nobody's problem right now," interjected Rick. "He's not even awake yet." He rubbed one hand across his forehead as he looked over at Daryl. "Look it's getting late and everybody's tired. Why don't we put this discussion to bed at least for tonight?"

As frustrated as Daryl was with the situation, he didn't figure there was much sense in arguing about it. At least not until they knew for certain that Randall was going to make it. "Alright, he said reluctantly. "I need to be getting back anyway."

Shane narrowed his eyes at him. "Where the hell do you think you're going? You just got here."

"Not that I need to fucking explain myself to you. But I got people in my group that expect me back."

"Oh, they're your group now." Shane sneered. "This is supposed to be your damn group."

Rick raised his hand. "Come on, Shane. Now, you know what he meant."

"Yeah, the problem is I think I do."

"After all the shit I've done for you people, you got the nerve to question my loyalties," Daryl snarled. He'd finally had enough. Enough Shane. Enough questions. Enough problems to deal with. He grabbed his crossbow from the wall where he had propped it and looked over at Rick. "I'm out of here," he grumbled as he headed towards the front door.

* * *

Daryl took the main road back to the truck just as the sun was beginning to set. His body was tense, his head throbbing as he trudged along the dirt and gravel stretched out in front of him. He hadn't really thought about what it was he was doing exactly. He didn't have to go back to that apartment. He didn't have to come up with some bullshit story about why Randall wasn't with him.

But he was going to.

He wanted to.

It was dark by the time he pulled into the parking lot and he waited there impatiently until the voices died down outside in the yard. He didn't want to risk running into anyone. He didn't have all the answers just yet. He grabbed his crossbow and made his way through the gate and up the walkway towards the building. Nobody was waiting at the front door for him this time. He probably should have been grateful for the fact but it frustrated him more than anything. It had only been a couple of days that Dave was gone and already things were slipping through the cracks.

He quickly took the stairs to the third floor and stood outside the apartment, not sure what to expect. Sarah was either going to be pissed, really pissed or indifferent to him all together. He'd take pissed over indifferent any day. At least pissed he could work with.

What he didn't expect was her to rush towards him as soon as he stepped inside the door. He'd barely dropped his crossbow off his shoulder when she landed hard against his chest. "You're back," she half choked, half sobbed into the side of his neck. "When it got so dark I thought something had happened."

He closed his eyes when her arms circled around him and just for that moment didn't think about anything else.

* * *

_**A/N:**__ Thank you to everybody that has been reviewing this story. Each and every one of your reviews means the world to me! _


	18. Best Laid Plans

The sun had just started to rise and Daryl watched as Sarah slept quietly across from him. He'd been up for a while now, lying there motionless, trying his best not to disturb her. The apartment's old leather couch was barely big enough for him, much less the two of them, but Sarah had managed to mold herself around him at some point during the night, somehow making it work.

He was surprised that she could sleep all curled up like that, but even more surprised she'd stayed in the first place.

Maybe he shouldn't have been, considering he'd done the same thing himself. He could have gotten up and slept in one of the beds just as easily as her, but somehow over the course of the evening he never seemed to find the inclination. Not that it mattered much. After all that had happened, he didn't figure he'd do much sleeping anyway.

He had lied to her. Gone down a road he couldn't turn back from—barely a moment after she'd slipped her arms from around him and asked him where he'd been. He didn't see any way to avoid it. There was no way he could tell her the truth. That he'd found the men that had killed her brother. That they were part of _his _group. That he'd gotten Randall shot in the process.

So he set her down on the couch and told her the only thing that he could think to. That he'd found nothing. That Randall had gone off somewhere, disappearing from the truck where Daryl had left him. That he'd stayed out till dark looking for him.

And she bought it—every word of it. That was the one thing that bothered him more than the lies themselves. She had stayed there with him the whole night and not once did she question any of it. It was the only thing he could think of as he watched her, how she was too damn trusting for her own good, how she wasn't like him. He was damn near made for what the world had become, his whole life nothing but a primer, but her…

He felt her legs suddenly shift next to him and he closed his eyes, not wanting her to catch him staring. He realized he needn't have worried because when he opened them a moment later, she was already watching him. She propped herself up on one elbow and greeted him with a quiet, "good morning."

"Mornin," he offered in return, feeling a sharp ache beneath his ribs as he sat himself up. "How'd you sleep?" he asked, rubbing his hand slowly across his side.

She made a little groaning sound as she stretched her back. "I'd be lying if I said I'd never slept better."

"Figured," he snorted as he dropped his feet to the floor. "This couch ain't exactly the most comfortable thing I ever slept on either."

She smiled a little at that, then moved down to the edge of the sofa to sit next to him. "Have you decided what you're going to do today?" she asked, reaching over to pick up the bottle of aspirin from the coffee table. "Because my offer still stands about helping you search for your brother."

Considering what he found out the day before, her offer took on a whole different context. One he was pretty certain she wasn't gonna be able to help him with. She tipped a couple of pills into her hand and gave them to him. "Yeah, but we won't be doing any of that today. I got something else in mind. Now, go get ready," he said, pointing towards her bedroom.

"What do you mean by _else_?" she asked, resting her forearms on her knees as she watched him toss back the aspirin.

It seemed apparent that she was in no hurry to move, so he took her lightly by the arm encouraging her up off the couch. "You'll find out soon enough."

She gave him that same questioning look she had given him when he asked her to climb into the tree. He pretended not to notice as he pulled on his boots, not needing any more arguments from her about how he was spending or _wasting_ his time in her opinion. He was dead set on doing something _else_ whether she liked it or not. He just needed to find a few things first.

The kitchen seemed like the best place to look and after Sarah had gone into her bedroom he did a quick search of the drawers, finding a few steak knives and some paper plates that would work for what he needed. He was just shoving them inside a plastic grocery bag when Sarah stepped out of the hallway, pulling her hair into a ponytail. "Ready?" he asked, as he picked the truck keys up off the counter.

"I guess so." She glanced around the living room as if uncertain if she might be forgetting something. "Should I be bringing anything in particular?"

He shook his head and went over to gather his crossbow from the table. "Nah, I got everything we need."

* * *

Daryl pulled the truck out of the parking lot and began heading away from town. The place he was taking Sarah was pretty much in the middle of nowhere and only a mile or so from the woods where she had found him. She must have realized where he was going, because as soon as he made the left that would take them towards the creek, she glanced over at him. "I thought you said we weren't—"

"We aren't, but there's a place out here I remember seeing that I want to take you to."

She kept watching him as if expecting him to continue, but he didn't. "So…are you going to tell me what it is we're doing?" she asked, drumming her fingers on the arm rest.

He shook his head. "Like I said before, you'll find out soon enough."

The answer didn't appease her for long because a moment later he heard her say, "Are we going on a picnic?"

She actually sounded serious which confused him. He lifted his eyes from the road and looked over at her, wondering where she would even begin to come up with an idea like that. "What?"

"You've got steak knives and paper plates here," she said, obviously having taken notice of the contents in the bag sitting between them." She eyed him for a moment. "And if we are, are we going to have to kill something first?"

He might have given her a pass on the first question, but after the second one he was pretty sure she was just screwing with him. "Nah, no picnics but I can't guarantee we ain't gonna kill something."

"Okay, now you're just doing this on purpose."

He grinned to himself when he saw the flicker of a smile cross her face. "I might have been wrong about you. Maybe patience ain't your strong suit after all." He rested his left hand on top of the steering wheel and pointed out in front of him. "Lucky for you we're finally here."

Sarah looked in the direction he was indicating and then back over at him. "A hayfield?"

He nodded as he pulled the pickup to the side of the road and killed the engine. "Get the bag," he said as he leaned across the seat to retrieve his crossbow. "I'll get everything else." It was clear from the look on her face that she was confused by his plans, but she did like he asked without any questions. He grabbed Daniel's pistol after she hopped out of the truck, then walked around to the other side to meet her. "I thought it was about time you learned how to use a gun," he told her as he slipped the pistol's extra clip inside his pocket.

"Really?" She looked half surprised, half confused.

"Yeah, really. I don't want you running around with just a hunting knife. That thing ain't gonna do you much good in most cases." He pointed to a hay bale off in the distance. "Let's head over there and I'll set up a few targets for you to practice on."

Sarah raised the bag in her hand. "We're using the paper plates for that?"

"Yeah, we definitely ain't eating off of 'em." He motioned for her to follow as he began tramping through the foot high grass towards the middle of the field. He figured it would be the perfect place to teach her. They'd be out in the open, able to see any walkers coming from at least fifty yards out.

He took the bag from her as they approached the spot, fishing out a couple of knives to secure one of the paper plates to the bale of hay. He tacked up two more next to it then backed Sarah up about five yards, figuring he'd start her relatively close and let her work her way out from there.

With everything set up the way he wanted, he pulled Daniel's gun from the waist of his jeans. Sarah looked down at it and there was a moment of recognition and then disquiet on her face. It didn't dawn on him until then that she might have been bothered by the sight of it. He rested his hand on her shoulder and held it out in front of her. "Here," he said softly, "take it. It's yours now."

Sarah took a deep breath then reached for the pistol, carefully testing its weight in her hand. It wasn't a large gun, just a Glock 17, but it looked almost twice its normal size with her small fingers wrapped around it. Daryl squeezed her shoulder lightly as she examined the weapon. "You ready to give it a try?" he asked.

She didn't answer him at first and he felt a sense of unease building inside him. Maybe he shouldn't have sprung the outing on her. Maybe she wasn't ready for all of this just yet. He had almost convinced himself to call the whole thing off when she finally looked up at him and nodded. "I've wanted to do this for a while now."

It was just what he wanted to hear. "Good," he said, giving her a small nod of encouragement, "we'll start with a few of the basics." He lifted the pistol from her hand and began going over the same checklist that his grandpa had done with him some twenty odd years before. "Always assume the gun is loaded" being the most important and "never point it at anything you don't intend to shoot" being the next. Sarah watched him carefully as he turned the gun on its side. "Now these things here," he said pointing to the post at the end of the barrel and the notch at the back, "are called sights. They're what you use to aim with." He wasn't sure if he might be insulting her intelligence but he didn't want to take anything for granted. "What you do is line the post in the center of the notch and then line the whole thing up with the target. It's simple really." He put the gun back in her hand. "There's no external safety on this particular pistol so you won't have to flip it off before you use it."

She appeared to be a little confused by that. "Will I have to worry about it going off by accident?" It was a fair question.

"It's got a trigger safety built into it, so it won't go off unless you want it to." She nodded. "You got any more questions?"

"I don't think so."

"Alright then, let's see what you can do."

She raised both eyebrows. "Just like that? There isn't some middle step or something?"

"Nope," he said shaking his head. "The best way to learn is just to do it. He stepped back giving her some room that she suddenly didn't look like she wanted.

"Okay," she breathed as she turned towards the target. She raised the gun with two hands out in front of her then glanced over at him.

"Widen your stance just a little bit," he said, demonstrating the proper distance with his hands. She set her feet shoulder width apart and after getting his silent approval, fired three rounds, pausing just long enough to frown at the completely intact paper plates hanging in front of her.

Daryl drew closer, examining the targets. "You're hitting a little high. Lower the gun a bit and try it again."

She did as he instructed and fired off six more shots this time, pausing once to give Daryl the chance to take out a walker with his crossbow that had ambled from the woods into the field. After confirming that she hadn't hit anything, she looked over at him and raised her shoulders. "I'm bad aren't I?" she sighed. "You can say it. I never did have the best hand/eye coordination to begin with."

He shook his head at her. "As long as you've got at least one good eye, you can do this. You just need to relax a little." He pointed back at the bale of hay. "Just take a deep breath and try it again."

She loosened her shoulders a little then slowly raised the gun. She fired off three more shots, getting a little bit closer this time but still missing the mark. He could see her mounting frustration as she lowered the weapon to her side. "Maybe this is why no one wanted to give me a gun."

"Don't go getting yourself all worked up," Daryl huffed. "It just takes practice. Nobody gets it right the first time."

She rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead, watching him for a moment. "Something makes me think you probably did."

"I wasn't perfect either," he retorted. He neglected to mention that he happened to be twelve at the time. "Your form is fine. It's just your aim that's off." He motioned for her to turn back to the target then stepped behind her, loosely wrapping his arms and hands around hers. She took a deep breath and he swore he could feel her quivering a little when he leaned in to position the gun. He drew back a bit, figuring his hovering over her was making her anxious. "You alright? I ain't making you nervous am I?"

She shook her head.

"No, you're not alright…or no, I'm not making you—"

"I mean yes," she said quickly, turning her head back over her shoulder to look at him. He freed one of his hands and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "Sorry. Yes, I'm alright. No, you're not making me nervous."

He gave her a critical eye, noticing the color rise in her cheeks. "It's kinda hard to aim if you're a bit jumpy is all." She nodded hesitantly as he wrapped his arms back around her and helped her line up the shot. "Try it now," he said as he removed his hands from hers and stepped back.

She didn't move a muscle as she pulled the trigger. Daryl smiled with satisfaction when he saw the clean hole she produced in the middle of the paper plate. "See, it ain't hard," he told her. "Like I said before, it just takes a little practice." He crossed his arms in front of him. "Now let's see if you can do it on your own this time." He noticed she seemed a lot more confident when she fired her next three shots. Two of them hit. One of them almost did.

Sarah smiled as she walked over to examine the targets. "Finally, she sighed as she ran her hand over the bullet holes, "maybe I'm not so hopeless after all."

He grinned at her and nodded. "You're doing good. Now let's see what you can do from a little further…" He trailed off when he saw Sarah's eyes suddenly grow wide. He looked over his shoulder to see what had drawn her attention. A herd of walkers had begun to shuffle out of the woods behind him. There were less than twenty of them in total but more than four times the number of bolts he had on him. "Fuck, I guess it was just a matter of time." He grabbed Sarah by the hand and pulled her in the direction of the truck. "New lesson plan," he told her. "We'll see if you can hit something that's moving."

He wasn't sure, but for the first time he thought he heard her curse a little at that.

* * *

_**A/N:**__ As you might have guessed after reading this chapter, I am not a weapons instructor. I just play one when I write fanfiction. Lol. Any bit of knowledge shared in this chapter is what I could glean from the internet. Bear with me if any information is wrong or better yet let me know and I'll correct it. Thanks for reading and an extra special thanks to those taking the time to review. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it!_


	19. Better

_**A/N:**__ Hi guys! I just wanted to say thank you for all of the amazing feedback I received on the last chapter. I know I sound like a broken record, but I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. I'd also like to thank PerverseLeigh for being kind enough to share some of her gun knowledge with me. I've tried to incorporate a bit of it into this chapter. Also, welcome to the new followers I've seen pop up lately. Thanks for signing on and sharing your comments. I really love hearing from you. And last but certainly not least, thank you to those of you who have continued to follow this story and leave me feedback. I hope you guys already know how great I think you are. Okay...enough of my babbling, on to the chapter.__  
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* * *

Fifty yards didn't turn out to be as much of a walker buffer as he'd originally thought. Not with the overgrown grass conspicuously concealing every rut and hole in the ground as they cut across the field. The trip in seemed like a stroll in the park—the trip out like a trek through a mine field. One wrong step and…

_Son of a bitch. _

Daryl tightened his grip on Sarah's hand, sending her whipping into his side as he stopped dead in his tracks. She must not have seen the walkers approaching the rear of the truck like he had. "Three more ahead," he told her, sparing a quick glance over his shoulder at the threat closing in from behind. "Now's your chance to put those skills of yours to use." He figured it was as good a time as any. The worst she could do was waste a bullet. The best she could do was buy him some time. He reached for the strap of his crossbow. "Just relax and do exactly like you practiced."

Sarah gave him an anxious nod then turned and trained her gun on a camouflage clad walker making a beeline towards them. Daryl raised his crossbow, preparing to take the shot in case she missed. Less than two seconds passed before her eyes darted in his direction. "I think I'm out of bullets," she blurted out.

Shit, he should have known that. She didn't have a full clip to begin with. He went ahead and took out the walker on his own, knowing that he didn't have time to wait. "Hold on," he said as he shifted his crossbow to one hand, quickly retrieving the pistol's extra clip from his pocket with the other. He tossed it to her. "Just push the button on the left side, right above the handle to switch it out, then release the slide."

She nodded again then tucked the full clip into her pocket before removing the empty one from the gun. He loaded another bolt, keeping one eye on her to make sure she wasn't having any trouble. She replaced the clip easily enough, then raised the pistol, firing it before he had the chance to give her any useful advice. Unfortunately, she didn't hit anything…at least anything he could see. He figured he was going to have to take it from there. He should have known better. One shooting lesson at a stationary target wasn't really enough practice to be able to…

Hell, nix all of that, he thought in disbelief as she landed a shot right through the eye socket of one of the two remaining walkers. The thing fell to the ground and tipped over on its side, taking the legs out from under the walker lumbering next to it. Damn, he couldn't have done any better himself. He took Sarah by the arm before the thing had the chance to get back up. "C'mon. C'mon. We gotta move."

The herd was almost on top of them now. He didn't have to look back to confirm it. He could hear them—smell them as he ushered Sarah through the grass and towards the truck. As soon as his boots hit the road, he threw open the driver's side door and hoisted her inside. She turned back around, grabbing his crossbow from him as he jumped in after her.

He barely had a chance to get settled behind the wheel before they were completely surrounded. Sarah set his crossbow in the back seat then slid over beside him, not taking her eyes off the walkers banging against the passenger side door. He could feel the truck begin to rock a little as he reached inside his jeans for the keys. A tense moment passed when his hand hit the bottom of his pocket.

…They weren't there.

He felt around again. …Still not there.

He patted down his other pocket, quickly confirming they weren't there either. "Fuck."

"What's wrong?" Sarah asked warily, turning her attention away from the rotting faces staring in through the windows and over to him.

He dropped both hands down on the steering wheel, feeling like someone had just kicked him in the gut. "Hell, I don't have the damn keys. I must have dropped them when I was taking the clip out of my pocket."

"Oh." She was taking this better than expected.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek, trying to summon up the nerve to actually look at her. "Shit, I don't guess you have an extra set on you, do you?"

She hesitated a moment before answering. "Well…sort of." He squinted at her, not sure what 'sort of' was supposed to mean. "There's an extra set," she said pointing towards the bed of the truck, "but they're in the tool box. Well, actually attached to the tool box."

"Not a lot of good they're gonna do us out there." That much seemed obvious.

Sarah got on her knees and leaned across the seat, looking out of the back window. The truck was practically blanketed with walkers on all sides. "I think I can get them."

"And how exactly do you plan on doing that?" he asked, eyeing her closely as she sat back down.

She looked up at the ceiling. "I'll climb out through the moonroof and reach over the edge of the tool box and grab them."

"You can't be serious," Daryl huffed. "One wrong move and you're dead. No way in hell I'm letting you do that."

She frowned a little and he realized he must have sounded like she did the day the two of them argued at the ravine. "You have a better idea?"

_No. _

No, he didn't have a better idea, but he didn't figure that should keep him from pointing out how flat out foolish her's was. "Not yet." He rested his hand on the ignition, wishing he had a screw driver to try to hotwire the thing. Of course a screw driver would have been in the tool box right alongside the damn keys.

"My way will work," Sarah insisted as the truck began to rock harder beneath them. "The walkers haven't tried to get in the back yet and they can't reach me unless they do. Besides, what other choice do we have? We can't exactly sit here, hoping somebody will find us."

He knew she was right, but that didn't do anything to ease his mind. She'd already had one close call because of him. He didn't think he could live with himself if she had another. He looked out of the windshield, watching as more walkers made their way into the road from the nearby woods. It was only going to get worse the longer they waited. He took a deep breath and glanced up at the half open moonroof, confirming for himself that he couldn't fit through it. It wasn't even close. Sarah would barely fit herself. After debating his other options which consisted of sitting there until the walkers tore the truck apart or just making a run for it, he reluctantly settled on hers. "I just want you to know that I ain't real happy with this whole idea, but if you insist on doing it, we do it my way."

His way meant he would keep cover for her, taking out any walkers that might manage to climb in the bed of the truck. It also meant keeping one hand on her at all times. He'd yank her ass back inside if he had to. She gave him her undivided attention as he carefully explained how it was all going to work. Apparently satisfied with his instructions, she handed him the gun then climbed up on the seat.

Daryl slipped the pistol in the waist of his jeans then placed one knee on the center console, positioning himself behind her. "Now you do exactly like we talked about. Don't even think about moving until I tell you to." She gave him a nod and then with his help pulled herself through the hole in the roof. She moved as far to the left as she could, giving him just enough room to prop his right arm on the edge of the opening beside her.

They barely had a chance to get into position before the first two walkers began to climb over the tail gate. Daryl fired off two quick shots and before the bodies even hit the ground, Sarah looked back over her shoulder for his okay to move. Getting it, she stretched out across the roof, resting her forearms on the tool box that spanned the width of the truck. The walkers began to work themselves into a frenzy as she methodically searched for the key. None of them could actually reach her, but she was cutting it a hell of a lot closer than Daryl was comfortable with. "Damn it, Sarah, hurry up!" he barked as he took out a couple more walkers who managed to get a little too close for his liking. She pulled herself a little nearer to the edge of the roof, carefully avoiding the swipes the walkers made at her from both sides.

After what seemed like an eternity of her hanging out there like bait, Daryl had had enough. She'd had more than enough time to find the key if it was out there as far as he was concerned. He was just about to give her a hard yank when she pushed herself up off the tool box. "Got it," she finally called back to him. Daryl shoved the gun in his pants then grabbed her by both legs pulling her unceremoniously back inside the truck.

"You know, you probably took a damn year off my life dawdling around like that," he scolded as she dropped her hands down on his shoulders, steadying herself on top of the console.

"Sorry, it was a little further back than I thought it'd be." She climbed over to her seat, taking the key out of the small magnetic box it was hidden inside. He traded her the gun for it.

"At least you're alright," he said, softening his tone a little. "Just hate that you were in that position to begin with."

She turned towards the window as he climbed behind the wheel. "I know."

He hoped so, he thought, as he cranked up the engine and eased his foot on the gas, slowly parting the walkers wrapped around the hood of the truck. They were obviously too stupid to move and the ones that weren't cast aside by the laws of physics were quickly crushed under the tires of the pickup.

He caught Sarah wincing a little at the sound. To him it was music to his ears. A few less walkers to contend with was fine by him. He drove the next half mile glancing up at the rear view mirror, watching them fade off into the distance. Sarah sat quietly beside him, twisting one of her wrists with her hand. "You hurt yourself?" he asked as he brought the truck to a stop at the approaching intersection.

She looked over at him. "I don't think so. My wrists are a bit sore is all."

"From gripping the gun too tightly," Daryl noted as he parked the truck. "Same thing happened to me the first time I learned to shoot." He turned a little in the seat and held his hand out in front of him. "Here, let me see."

"I'll probably live without any sort of medical intervention," she said lightly.

"Probably," he retorted as he took one of her hands in his. "I wouldn't exactly call this medical intervention anyway."

She smiled. "You know I never did say thank you for bringing me out here today. I mean I know I'm a long way off from being the next Annie Oakley, but it's kinda nice to know I could get myself out of a bad situation if I had to."

"You ain't gotta thank me, 'specially considering the clusterfuck this day turned out to be." Not that he was surprised, all his days seemed to be heading towards fucked up lately. "And I wouldn't go selling yourself short either. That was a damn good shot you took on that walker."

She scrunched up her nose a little. "Not really. I was aiming for the other one."

He snorted as he pressed his fingers against the side of her wrist. "I might have kept that one to myself."

"I would have, but I was afraid you might go around expecting that kind of shooting from me from now on."

He shook his head as he switched to her other hand. "You'll get there, might have gotten there today if we had a little more time to practice."

"At least I got to try it under pressure."

That was a bit of an understatement. "Lucky you had an extra key otherwise it would have been a helluva lot more pressure than that." He paused for a moment then looked up at her. "Just out of curiosity, why were you so dead set on getting the keys from me when I put you up in that tree if you already had an extra set?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "It was the only way I could be sure you'd come back for me."

_S__mart girl._ Maybe she wasn't as naïve as he thought. "Thought you said I was a nice enough guy."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "I said _seemed _like a nice enough guy. It didn't necessarily mean you were."

He grinned to himself as he released her hand. "Better?"

"Better," she agreed as she rotated her wrists in front of her. "And since I'm all better and since we finished earlier than planned, I thought maybe we could take a little side trip."

He rubbed his hand over his forehead, hoping she wasn't going to suggest looking for Merle. Between lying about finding his group and not telling her he'd gotten his memory back, he wasn't sure he could hold up to a bunch of scrutiny if she started asking questions. "You don't want to head back to the ravine do you?"

He almost sighed in relief when she slowly shook her head. "I was thinking maybe we should try and find Randall."

_Fuck._


	20. As Good a Time as Any

He should have seen this whole thing coming. After all he was dealing with a woman who not five days before had gone gallivanting off into the woods with him, searching for a man she didn't know. And for what? Because he told her a good sob story and asked her nicely to? Stood to reason to think if she'd do that for a complete stranger she wouldn't think twice about doing it for Randall.

Of course that all seemed obvious to Daryl _now._ Now that he'd already gone and dug a hole for himself. Now that she was staring back at him with those hopeful green eyes of hers, asking him to do _her_ a favor.

He turned away from her gaze, afraid that if she kept looking at him like that he'd wind up doing something stupid like agreeing to it. "Honestly," he half mumbled as he cranked the truck back up, "there's no point in it." He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, feeling like a hypocrite for using the word 'honestly', considering everything about to come out of his mouth was anything but honest. "Already checked every place I could think to look and didn't find anything."

Sarah propped her arm on the side of the door and looked out of the window. "I'm sure that you did, but it seems like we should be doing something. I just hate to think of him out there running around on his own."

Daryl put the truck in gear and made the right at the stop sign, trying to figure out how to put this whole matter to rest. With the farm practically within throwing distance, the last thing he needed was a damn search party running around. "Really ain't much we can do. I didn't find any signs of walkers and for all we know he took off on his own. If he's out there somewhere, and wants to, he'll find his way back home."

Sarah glanced over at him and it didn't take a mind reader to figure out what she was thinking.

_But you didn't. _

She was wrong for once; unfortunately he was the only one who knew it. She turned back to the window, resting her head in her hand as an uncomfortable silence passed between them. He tried not to read too much into it, knowing he was only going to drive himself crazy trying to figure out what was going on in that mind of her's. It could have been anything considering—

"Can I ask you something?"

Her voice was quiet but somber and he found himself tensing a little at the prospect of what her question might be. What makes you think Randall would just run off? Why would you leave him alone in the first place? He didn't have a good answer for either of them. He didn't even have shitty ones. He reluctantly nodded, knowing she was going to ask it anyway.

"Have you given up on trying to find your brother?"

He drew up his brow, having been so focused on trying to come up with suitable answers to his imagined questions, he almost thought he didn't hear right. "Why would you think that?"

"You came out here with me today. Yesterday you took off with Randall. You just haven't spent any time looking is all." She frowned as she leaned back against the seat. "It just bothers me to think you might have given up."

Just when he thought he couldn't feel any lousier about things, she had to go and say that, and damn if he didn't feel worse. He needed to find a way out this hole he'd gotten himself into and she sure as hell needed to stop fretting over him. "It ain't like that. I just started remembering some things. Not a whole lot, but enough to know that it wasn't just me and Merle out there but a group of us." He figured he could test the waters.

Sarah straightened in her seat, her face lighting up like it was the best damn news she ever heard. "Daryl, that's great," she practically beamed at him. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

_Because that group just happens to be the one that killed your brother. _He shrugged, ignoring the obvious answer that was practically tap dancing inside his head. "Really wasn't much to go on. Just knew we weren't camped out in the woods, so it seemed kinda pointless to keep looking there. Figured I might as well bide my time and wait until I could get an idea of where we've been staying."

Sarah laid her hand on the crook of his arm. "See, I told you. I knew this was all going to work out in the end."

She couldn't have been more wrong about anything. Randall might not make it—most definitely _not_ working out. If he did make it, then Daryl had a whole new set of problems to deal with—again definitely _not_ working out. Of course none of that even took into account the fact that he was lying like a damn rug about all of it.

Sarah looked back out of the window and got quiet for a moment. "Do you think we could at least ride out to where you and Randall went? We don't have to get out or anything, but I thought we could at least check the road just in case he might be heading back."

It was a reasonable request—one he couldn't really argue against. If it made her feel better to think she was doing something, even if it was pointless, he figured there was no real harm in it. "Guess we can do that."

He drove a few more miles before making a left on the first desolate looking road he could find. "The place is right up ahead," he said pointing out of the windshield. Sarah's eyes quietly searched the nearby woods and fields as they passed by. He pretended to do the same. They weren't anywhere near the farm. He never had any intention of taking her there in the first place.

* * *

When they finally got back to the apartment, Sarah seemed resigned to the fact that he'd done everything within reason to try and find Randall. Mainly because she still believed he'd spent all those hours searching the day before. While he felt like a complete sack of shit for lying about it, he took some comfort in knowing it was no longer a topic of discussion.

He spent the next half hour sitting with her at the kitchen table, showing her how to take the Glock apart, clean it and put it back together. She was a quick learner and he couldn't help but feel a certain amount of satisfaction in the fact that she seemed so comfortable with the gun in her hands. "If only I could shoot it as well as I can clean it," she said off-handedly, as she watched him refill one of the pistol's clips from the chair beside him.

Luckily, Daniel had kept some extra ammo on hand. Assuming she only used it when she absolutely had to; she had more than enough to keep her set for a while. "Like I said before, you'll get there. Soon as I can find a place that's safe enough, I'll take you back out to get a little more practice in."

Sarah smiled up at him as she gathered the cleaning supplies together then rose from the table. "It looks like they've started dinner," she said as she walked into the living room and looked out of the balcony doors. "Did you want to go downstairs and eat?"

He glanced over at her, watching as she pressed her fingers against the glass and stared down at the yard. It should have been any easy question, but he suddenly found himself debating it. Yeah, he wanted to eat. His stomach had been gnawing at him most of the afternoon. It was having to do it with the rest of them that he wasn't so keen on. They might not have been the tightest knit group from what he could tell, but some of them must have figured out that Randall was missing by now.

"I should probably go out there," Sarah said, wrapping her arms around herself as she turned back towards him. "I mean I have to face them at some point, don't I?"

He knew that she did and as much as he would have been content to just hole up with her in the apartment never having to deal with any of the Randall shit himself, he didn't figure it was very realistic. "Yeah, I'd say you do."

Sarah sighed as she took one last look out at the balcony. "I guess now is as good a time as any."

Without another word, Daryl grabbed his crossbow from the kitchen table and made the short trip with Sarah down to the yard. It was cooler now that the sun had started to set and Sarah rubbed lightly at her arms as they cut across the grass and past the campfire. Nate and Sean were nowhere to be seen and although Daryl was more than ready to get the whole Randall situation behind him, he couldn't help but find himself relaxing a little as he and Sarah got in the back of the line forming beneath the shelter.

Two women Daryl knew by face, but not name, were doling at food at one of the picnic tables and gauging by the less than enthusiastic looks he was seeing around him, he doubted the meal was much to speak of. His misgivings were confirmed a short time later, when the younger of the two women gave him an almost apologetic smile, as she handed him a plate with a small serving of what looked like...stew…maybe?

Sarah couldn't offer her opinion on the matter, having already taken her dinner and drifted off to speak to a woman standing in line behind them. Daryl waited impatiently, thumbing the strap of his crossbow, trying his best to fade into the background.

Less than a minute passed before he determined that his attempt was useless, because when he made the mistake of surveying the other end of the shelter, he noticed Rachel with her hand in the air. She gave him a smile and motioned him over to the table where she and two other women were sitting.

Daryl glanced back over at Sarah, silently willing her to wrap up her little conversation. Inwardly he groaned when she only responded with a slight shrug of her shoulders and a clear 'go on without me' look. He figured the first level of his own personal hell consisted of just this scenario, him being stuck making awkward conversation with a bunch of women he didn't know.

He noticed that Rachel was still standing there, staring at him like she was confused as to what he was doing exactly. He gave Sarah another pointless look, before reluctantly making his way through the crowd to where Rachel was sitting.

She smiled up at him as he approached. "Have a seat," she said, patting the wooden bench beside her. He set down his plate and propped his crossbow at the end of the table. "Have you met Jane and Katherine?" Rachel asked as he stepped over the seat and sat down next to her. He shook his head at the two blonde women sitting across from him.

"You can call me Kate," said the younger looking one.

"Daryl."

The other one, Jane, who looked closer to Daryl's age, pushed her empty plate aside and smiled. "I'm sure you don't remember but I helped Sarah and Daniel get you set up in the apartment the day they found you. Of course you looked quite a bit different then."

He guessed that was her nice way of saying he looked like shit. "I bet."

He picked up his fork, shifting slightly when he felt Rachel's knee brush up against the side of his leg. "You cleaned up real nice though."

He cut his eyes at her, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the less than innocent way she sort of drawled it. "Guess a bath will do that."

"Try two," Jane interjected with an almost amused look on her face.

Daryl paused halfway in the middle of taking his first bite and looked up at her. A little grin formed at the corner of her mouth and he wasn't sure whether to feel more embarrassed or violated by what she was implying. He grunted a non-committal _hmmph_ in response.

"You know that was a pretty bad wound you had," Jane continued. "You're really lucky that Daniel was the one who found you. I think Sarah said he had some sort of EMT training or something along those lines, you know… before?"

Daryl nodded even though he actually didn't know it. In fact all he really knew was the little that Sarah had shared with him the night Daniel had died.

"Other than that cut over your brow," Kate added, indicating the same spot on her forehead, "you wouldn't even know you had an accident."

He noticed her eyes look past him and he turned just in time to see Sarah walk up behind him. She reached over his shoulder and set a bottle of water down in front of him. "Sorry," she whispered before taking the empty seat beside Kate.

For the next ten minutes he was completely ignored as the conversation shifted to Sarah and how she was doing. Grateful for the reprieve from 'the make Daryl Dixon uncomfortable' spectacle, he just sat there quietly observing the wash of people that moved around him. He didn't know most of them, probably never would, but after digesting what Glenn had said the day before, he couldn't help but look at them in a critical light. _They seemed like good guys…at first. _

"So where did you and Daryl run off to today?"

Rachel's question drew his attention back to his own table. Sarah hesitated for a moment before replying, "We went out looking for Daryl's brother again. Unfortunately we still haven't found anything."

Daryl squinted at her, confused as to why she was lying exactly. Granted he had a good reason to, but her? And it wasn't like it was a mistake or lapse in judgment, because no sooner had she said it, he felt her foot nudge the side of his leg.

"What are you going to do if you can't find your brother?" Jane asked.

Sarah's eyes flicked up to meet his and he could tell from the look on her face that she was just as curious about the answer as anyone. He never had discussed that possibility with her and with everything that had happened over the last couple of days there was no longer a reason to. Of course she had no way of knowing that. He was just about to start beating around the bush when he felt a heavy hand come down on the back of his shoulder. He didn't even have to turn around to know who it was.

"You got a minute?" Nate asked, the grave tone of his voice matching the stern look on his face. "I think we got a problem."

* * *

_**A/N:**__ Sorry for the long delay on this chapter, but for whatever reason I really struggled to get it written. Probably because it was so fillery. Hopefully it wasn't too slow. I'll try to make up for it in the next chapter when everything finally comes to a head for Daryl._

_Thanks for reading and thank you so much the wonderful reviews on the last chapter. They really make my day. And to the guest reviewer, since I can't PM you, I want to say thank you as well. Your kind words definitely keep me motivated._


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